


Three Nights in a Row

by Huntress79, Judy_The_Dreamer



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes in a suit, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Eventual Happy Ending, Extremis Pepper Potts, F/M, First Dates, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Foodies, Formalwear, Frenemies Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson, Getting Together, Holding Hands, Hugs, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Insomnia, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, POV Bucky Barnes, Past Torture, Pining Bucky Barnes, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Steve Rogers, Self-Discovery, Spa Treatments, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Strong Female Characters, Supportive Avengers, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Winter is a separate personality, communication is key, loss of bionic limb, maintenance sessions, mild erotic thoughts, references to past torture and brainwashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:40:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 65,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23105632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress79/pseuds/Huntress79, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judy_The_Dreamer/pseuds/Judy_The_Dreamer
Summary: Bucky Barnes is still trying to find his footing after being welcomed into the Avengers. Sleep doesn’t come easy, but surprisingly, romance does. He can only hope there’s enough of that old charmer left in him to win over the woman that has caught his eye. Did he mention Pepper Potts is way out of his league?Will matchmaking shenanigans and late night conversations help Bucky figure out what he wants and, more importantly, who he truly is?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Pepper Potts, Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 19
Kudos: 88
Collections: Marvel Rare Pair Bang 2019





	1. The Long Road

**Author's Note:**

> My second entry into the Marvel Rare Pair bang 2019.
> 
> Before you start reading this fic, I'd kindly advise you to MIND THE TAGS! They are there for a reason. If at any point you want to contact me about adding more tags or warnings, please feel free to do so. I also don't have DID, but have based my portrayal off of educational resources. When it comes to mental health, please keep in mind that fiction is not 100% representative of real life. [I'll possibly be adding more tags as I post more chapters, but the most important ones are up.]
> 
> xxxx
> 
> This fic is the longest finished piece I've ever written. I'm filled with equal amounts of pride and disbelief for having managed to invest this many words and hours into a rare pair. Chilipper is still a small raft, but I've got big hopes that it will grow out to rival the Titanic in size!
> 
> Special thanks to these wonderful people for helping me bring this fic into the world:
> 
> Huntress79 for creating beautiful art (to be revealed soon!) and waiting so patiently for me to finish writing.   
> ANTchan for betaing this monster fic and cheering me along with her comments.   
> All my fellow sprinters over on the Stuckony Discord server. 
> 
> I couldn't have done it without you!
> 
> This fic updates daily (or tries to) and will be completed by the 21st.

[](http://imgbox.com/vs9wF01G)

*********************

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/79/b3/7WDU6xfz_o.jpg)

In a long since passed, more innocent time, Bucky hadn’t believed there existed such a thing like ‘too quiet.’ The tiny, ramshackle apartment he’d shared with Steve during their early twenties had never known a second of silence. Thanks to the dreadfully thin walls, the soundscape had consisted of metallic clanking from water pipes, the raucous laughter and scraping of chairs, and the occasional embarrassingly loud amorous spectacle coming from their neighbours. On top of that, the ceaseless hubbub from the street below had been enough to keep the both of them up all night. Whenever Bucky had been at the cusp of sleep, there had always been some kind of disturbance going on right outside their window. Brooklyn had never seemed to want to settle down, much less cater to the wants and needs of a difficult sleeper and his chronically ill best friend. Honestly, by the end, ‘quiet’ had become such a foreign concept that he’d found it hard to imagine it could get much worse.

Of course, then his clueless ass had been shipped off to Europe to fight with the rest of America’s young men, and Bucky had quickly discovered just how wrong he’d been. Brooklyn was a virtual oasis of peace compared to the theatre of war he’d arrived in. If Bucky had been keeping a list of ‘ten great places to enjoy the quiet,’ the front would have landed squarely at the bottom (if not dropped entirely off the list). Amid the explosions and gunfire, lost comrades and forced labour, Bucky had learned to recognize silence as a warning sign of something worse to come. 

Up until this day, nothing made his hair stand on end like the memory of the dead silence after an air raid, when the dust was starting to settle, but people’s minds were already drifting towards the bodies buried beneath layers of metal and concrete. The 107th had lost too many good men to fire from the heavens in the early days of his deployment. If he hadn’t been captured and detained in Azzano, Bucky might have wound up amongst their number. It was a strange twist of fate to be grateful for, since Zola had consequently become responsible for providing Bucky with his greatly longed-for calm and quiet.

As the asset, silence had been Bucky’s prerogative. Ideally, the Winter Soldier would never utter a word, only listen closely for the next command from his handler. This enforced mute state was punctuated with the complete absence of sound that existed inside the cryo chamber. There, the silence meant he was losing valuable time, years he could have used to break free from HYDRA’s programming, years he could have spent searching for Steve in the ice. Well, it was no use dwelling on regrets. (At least, that’s the rule his therapist had drilled into his skull after they’d freed up some space by wiping the trigger words.)

Anyway, Bucky’s complicated relationship with silence normally had little impact on his daily life. Working as an Avenger was a noisy and active gig and Bucky’s life was peppered with just the right amount of quiet interludes. The missions didn’t bother Bucky in the slightest, on the contrary, he revelled in them. Going on a long mission meant fewer nights he’d have to sleep at Avengers Tower, because nights at the Tower were that dreaded silence personified, and Bucky hated them with a passion.

‘I’m not an insomniac,’ he’d once tried to explain to Steve on a very early morning when the latter had brought up his lack of sleep. ‘The nightmares are fine. My brain’s too scrambled for them to make much sense anyway.’ Steve had pulled a face at that, no doubt eager to correct Bucky’s self-deprecating line of thinking.

‘It’s the emptiness, you know,’ he’d continued, closing his hands around a cup of strong coffee for warmth. ‘When there’s nothing for me to hear but ambient sounds, my brain tricks me into believing I’m back in cryo. The nights are easier if I have something to focus on…’

After his confession, Steve had taken him straight to Tony, who at the time had only recently picked up the idea to redesign an arm replacement for Bucky, and practically begged the genius to create world’s most sophisticated white noise machine, so Bucky could finally catch a wink of sleep. Undaunted by the unusual challenge, Tony had presented them with a functioning prototype within the week. To his chagrin, Bucky had to admit the machine worked wonders when he actually remembered to plug it in. 

Unfortunately, his brain was also fucked up enough to want some visuals to go with all that noise. This hankering for visual stimuli meant getting up from his comfortable bed (with Stark brand mattress included, patent pending), but sadly, movement was not conducive to sleep. So, a large amount of time Bucky stayed up regardless of the money and effort Tony had sunk into the fancy gizmo. He hoped Stark Industries had at least been able to market it to the public, otherwise he’d start to feel pretty guilty for wasting so much of the billionaire’s time. Knowing Tony’s tendency to hyperfocus on one project to the detriment of countless others. In all likelihood, Pepper had already given him a stern talking to.

Occasionally, when Bucky would go down to the workshop for maintenance, he’d run into the CEO on the stairs. Just last Wednesday, he’d met her at the workshop doors and her cheeks had still been stained a lovely pink hue. The flash of ire in her gaze had been sufficiently powerful to freeze Bucky in his tracks.

Pepper was an arresting woman on the worst of days. She moved through the world with a kind of confidence that Bucky had formerly associated with the capitalist arseholes that had chased people like him and Steve into poverty. And yes, Pepper may be the CEO of a billion dollar company, but Bucky had never caught her acting indifferent. No matter how heated or cool her interactions with business rivals or members of the press got, Pepper stayed civil and attentive to the other person's point of view. In his limited exposure to her, that was the trait Bucky had come to admire the most. He suspected there was plenty more to be admired once he'd get to know her better (which was highly unlikely since Pepper and him seemed to have very little in common apart from their mutual attachment to a pack of mule headed superheroes). 

Bucky could dream though, and if he was very lucky, Pepper would one day grant him her real smile. In response, he'd somehow recover all that charm he'd left behind in the forties and ask her out for coffee. These dreams had been of very little help at the moment of their workshop meeting, because by the time his confused thoughts had detangled themselves enough to determine if he found the fire in her eyes to be terrifying or terribly attractive, she’d been long out of sight. 

Tony had been standing in the doorway, watching her go with a sheepish expression before shooting Bucky a curious look. ‘Having software problems, Robocop?’

Bucky had swallowed heavily and pushed the inappropriate thoughts to the back of his mind to be closely examined at a more private time. ‘Not at all. Just trying to comprehend how you keep managing to upset an endlessly patient woman like her.’

Almost immediately, Tony’s gaze had turned calculating as he assessed the flush rising to Bucky’s cheeks. The former assassin could practically see the cogs going into hyperdrive from where he stood. Apparently, Tony could sniff out a weak excuse from a mile away and didn’t buy his clumsy deflection for a minute. That should have been trouble. Yet as far as Bucky knew, the engineer hadn’t mentioned his strange reaction to Pepper (or Steve), so he should be safe.  _ For now. _

Among the threats he wasn’t safe from, however, was Steve’s inability to go on his morning run alone when there was another enhanced individual present in the Tower. (Guess who got to bear the brunt of that particular affectation. Yeah, Bucky wasn’t a happy camper.) He could swear that the punk hadn’t been a morning person before a bunch of crazy scientists had pumped him full of mystery serum. Twenty-first century Steve begged to disagree with a broad, stupid grin…

His best friend’s morning routine was especially infuriating on days when he’d caught very little sleep. On those nights, Bucky tended to wander down to the common floor kitchen or living room when his insomnia made itself apparent. He liked to occupy himself with following the traces of activity left behind by the other Avengers. Compared to his own sparsely-furnished apartment, the presence of Natasha’s Russian romance novels and Clint’s video games made the whole space appear more alive. Most of all, he loved burying down in a cocoon of fluffy blankets and listen to a Starkpod playlist of old hit songs curated by Tony. Lamentably, this established habit also led Steve to know exactly where he was hunkered down after a tough night. God forbid the Soldier not bring good cheer to a friend in need. 

From his cozy lounging position on the couch, Bucky had a clear view of the digital clock mounted on the side of the kitchen island. The red numbers had barely flipped to 5:30 AM when the doors to the common area slid open with a puff of displaced air. Steve looked fresh as a daisy, not a hair ruffled out of place by sleep or other bedroom activities.  _ Utterly disgusting. _

Bucky tipped his head back in the cushions with a groan. ‘Stay away, you monster.’

Steve only laughed in response as he plopped himself down next to Bucky’s bare feet, chancing a tickle to his exposed soles. ‘Aww. Someone’s in a mood, I see.’

Barely keeping himself from pulling his feet up, Bucky delivered a swift kick to his side in retaliation. He was not ticklish, damn it.

‘Let me sleep in peace, punk.’

‘Jerk,’ Steve retaliated with a devastatingly charming pout.

Unwilling to be swayed by such underhanded tactics, Bucky flicked him in the face with the edge of his blanket. ‘Language,’ he said mockingly. ‘You kiss Tony with that filthy mouth? Gross!’

‘That mouth of his does a lot more dirty things to me than kissing, Buckaroo,’ came the sleep reply of the billionaire himself. Tony shuffled into the lounge with the exhausted gait of a man twice his age. He looked rumpled enough to have either just emerged from an engineering binge or from a long night in Steve’s bed, and Bucky didn’t doubt in the slightest that his best friend had had a hand in the genius’s current state. His suspicion was confirmed by Steve turning an alarming shade of strawberry red. Served him right.

‘Double gross,’ Bucky grumbled as he started to extract himself from his blanket cocoon, swatting aside Steve’s helping hand. ‘I don’t need to know all the unmentionable details of what you guys get up to. It’s bad enough that I’ve walked in on you a couple of times.’

Tony’s grin was entirely too smug as he folded himself into his boyfriend's lap. ‘Consider it desensitization training for the twenty-first century. Now, if you ever have to run a mission in a brothel, you won’t even blink at what they get up with. Steve’s got some kin-’

‘Tony, that’s enough!’ Steve promptly clamped a hand over Tony’s mouth before any other sordid bedroom secrets could spill out. ‘Get some coffee and wake up before you tell Bucky something you’ll regret.’ Tony’s eyes clearly said ‘I don’t do regrets,’ but he acquiesced with a stiff nod.

When Steve retracted his hand, however, Tony couldn’t quite manage to drop the subject. ‘But Stevie, I was just about to bequeath some sage advice on our dear ice bear. I don’t want him to stumble onto the dating scene blindly. Some modern ladies have special needs that he has to be made aware of.’ 

‘Dating?’ Steve asked, brows rising in confusion.

‘Special needs?’ Bucky whimpered as he tried to unpack all the dazzling implications lurking behind that statement. Instantly, his mind started to relive every single sex scene he’d read in Natasha’s trashy romance novels. Were floggers and restraints what made modern relationships work? He wasn’t sure if he was ever going to be ready for that, though he felt like Tony was implying that there was a whole other level to be explored with certain partners. Certain ladies with needs. Surely, he wasn’t talking about…

His mouth went dry at the thought of a faceless woman bringing him to kneel before her with a soft command, her gentle hands toying with the long strands of his hair as she made him wait for her permission to go ahead, the crux of her thighs a mouth-watering tease just out of his reach. She’d have to be kind and firm, able to pluck the fears out of his head until there was only her and him. She’d have to be a bit like… no, he couldn’t start thinking that way. His cock gave an interested twitch underneath his remaining blanket cover though, and Bucky quickly shook his head to clear away the tempting vision. The last thing he needed was his body to provide Tony with more evidence to confirm his suspicions.

‘Yep,’ Tony popped the word with an exaggerated wink, and Bucky suddenly had zero doubt that his hope was for naught. Somehow, the engineer had already figured out precisely what was playing out inside Bucky’s head. ‘I think that, as a very pragmatic operative, Bucky would enjoy getting some solid intel from an expert. After all, I’ve been around the block a few times-’ 

Steve’s expression soured at that. No one ever talked about Captain America’s jealous streak, but boy, did he have one a mile wide. Tony’s grin turned apologetic for a second as he stroked a hand along Steve’s shoulder. Bucky still marvelled at how attuned to his best friend’s moods the supposedly narcissistic genius was even while his attention was fixed on somebody else entirely. He didn’t quite know if he’d want somebody to be able to look inside his head like that. Steve was apparently still the braver out of the two of them.

‘Which reminds me,’ Tony said sweetly as he pushed himself up from Steve’s lap. ‘I need to borrow your jogging buddy for a tune-up. I believe I’ve finally solved the problem with the joint articulation and the new arm will be ready to go by the end of the week. I will need to take some measurements before I start trying to produce a working prototype.’ Steve started to open his mouth in protest, but Tony ducked down to silence him with a quick kiss. 

Bucky rolled his metal shoulder. It was a bit stiff, though not at the level he would have bothered Tony for another maintenance session, but if it meant he didn’t have to race Steve through New York today… Well, it couldn’t hurt now, could it?

‘I’m in,’ he nodded at Tony, who gave him the thumbs up. If possible, Steve looked even more chagrined at being kept out of the loop.

‘Come down to the workshop in thirty. I’m going to freshen myself up a bit.’ He started to shuffle off towards the kitchen in search for coffee, but briefly turned to address Steve with a mischievous smile: ‘Make Sam sweat for me, will you? He’s getting entirely too comfortable on that sofa of his. I’ll have fun with the Buckster.’

Steve rolled his eyes in exasperation. ‘Whatever you say, Tony. You two can conspire behind my back all you want, as long as I get to hear what this is about eventually.’ He shot a sharp, warning glance at Bucky, who was struck by an unexpected dose of guilt. The last thing he wanted was his best friend going into mother hen mode when there really was nothing to worry about. He felt the sudden need to explain himself.

‘It’s fine, Stevie,’ he tried to sound reassuring, but Steve’s sceptical look only intensified at the fake cheery tone. ‘Tony and I are going to tinker with the arm, drink a gazillion cups of coffee and maybe gossip a little, like old ladies.’

‘Back in my day old ladies used to get together to play cards, not to blow expensive equipment up,’ Steve muttered, but his shoulders sagged as he spoke. He’d obviously decided to leave it alone until Bucky was willing to talk.

The former assassin clapped him on the shoulder. ‘That was my day too, and old ladies were way more exciting than you remember.’

‘Don’t remind me. Sometimes, I can still feel the bruises where Mrs. Roberts nailed me with her shoe after she caught me making off with one of her strawberry tarts.’

Bucky sighed wistfully at the memory. ‘Those were some good tarts.’

As if summoned by the mention of food, Tony poked his head back out of the kitchen, steaming mug of coffee in hand. ‘Pepper wouldn’t like them. She’s allergic. I learned the hard way.’ Bucky could feel himself stiffening up at that bit of information. It’s bad enough that Tony would be teasing him about his attraction to Pepper when it’s just the two of them, but with Steve there… Bucky feared what kind of conclusion his friend might arrive at if his boyfriend kept throwing vague references into the conservation. He’d have to put his hopes on Steve believing that Tony’s comment was a result of his caffeine-deprived scattered thoughts. He did, however, note that piece of intel down at the back of his mind. Although he doubted he’d be accompanying Pepper to a bakery anytime soon, it would make a lovely first date…  _ Stop it! _

While Bucky had been trying to relax his shoulders through the panic, Steve had only gotten more confused. He looked at Tony helplessly. ‘What’s Pepper got to do with it?’

The genius slurped loudly before scurrying out of the living room. ‘I’ll tell you when you’re older.’  _ The absolute bastard.  _

Tony’s less-than-heroic dash from the common room left Bucky and Steve in an uncomfortable silence. With no small amount of consternation, the former assassin watched the furrow between his best friend’s brow deepen until it rivalled the crevices of the Grand Canyon. In moments like this, when Steve felt left in the dark and at a disadvantage, he resembled the classical image of Captain America the most, all sharp angles and stern stares. 

Heaving a deep sigh, Bucky forced his shoulders to relax further as he tossed the blanket completely aside. He stretched his legs faux-casually in the freed up space and leant back into the cushions. Maybe if he tried hard enough, they’d swallow him up and save him from having to face down Steve’s infamous stubbornness. Part of him hoped Steve would pick up on his silent cue and drop whatever line of questioning that was doubtlessly forming inside that thick skull of his. That hope fizzled out when, instead of following his lead, Steve sat up straighter and nudged Bucky’s legs with his knee. 

‘Is there something you want to share? Something to do with Pepper, apparently?’ He asked sharply, unleashing the full gut-wrenching power of his ‘Captain-America-is-disappointed-in-you’-stare. 

To a seasoned professional like Bucky it registered like a slap to the back of his head. It sent him right back to their school days and the cool disapproval from the nuns when the two of them had worked themselves into a spot of bother. Only Steve had been standing beside him then, equally red-cheeked as the Mother Superior dealt her special brand of justice. It was weird to be on the other side of the conflict from Steve, unnatural almost. Despite the long decades they’d been separated, that sense of innate loyalty had never bled out of Bucky. That loyal part of him was ready to give into Steve’s firm demand for more information, but the larger part, the part that was shaped like The Soldier, knocked the words from his head with a vibranium fist.

_ We’re not telling him. He has no right to coerce us into baring our soul. We can keep our own bloody secrets.  _ The voice of The Soldier made chills run up and down his spine. He rarely emerged from the shadows of Bucky’s mind these days, the force of his presence diminished by every memory they’d tackled with BARF, but when he chose to make himself heard, Bucky was inclined to listen. The Soldier’s good sense had kept them alive through years of brainwashing and pain, that had to count for something.

Divided between the two parts of himself clamouring for his attention, Bucky couldn’t quite meet Steve’s gaze as he weighed his words. He struggled to keep his voice level. ‘I know that you’re probably going to think I’m lying, but there’s no cause for concern. Nothing in my head seems to be about to blow. I haven’t brainstormed assassination scenarios for anyone this week, and my horoscope was pretty optimistic. I’ve never been better.’ Despite the sincerity of his words, they left a sick feeling in his mouth. 

On a base level, he was perfectly fine with confiding in Steve when it came to the darker turns his mental health had taken, but this… This felt different. More private. Slightly light-hearted. His interest in Pepper was like a little flame flickering to life inside his chest, slowly warming him from within. He experienced an urge to shelter its vulnerable sparks from the unforgiving wind with his hands. 

At the same time, letting Steve worry over something so trivial as a burgeoning crush seemed downright unfair to the man who’d supported him through thick and thin. Moreover, Bucky knew all too well that his friend wouldn’t stop until he was completely convinced that the other wasn’t deliberately hiding something harmful from him. Steve was more difficult to shake off than a bloodhound once he’d caught the scent of trouble. Which meant that Bucky might be saving himself from a lot of misery down the line by throwing him a bone now, even if it was just a tiny one.

‘There might be something, though,’ he admitted hesitantly. His throat constricted, like The Soldier was trying to choke him into silence.

Steve leaned forward eagerly, elbows on knees, creating an atmosphere of privacy by lowering the volume of his voice. ‘Something bad or good? Sure, I understand if you think Pepper’s way too intimidating to make friends with for now, but she’s genuinely kind once you get to--’ 

‘That’s not the problem. The not-liking part, I mean,’ he rushed to clarify. He could feel blood creeping up to heat his cheeks. ‘Quite the opposite. I think she’s a real swell dame.’

‘We don’t say ‘dame’ anymore, it’s--’ Steve started to correct him automatically before abruptly stuttering to a halt as his brain unpacked the subtext of Bucky’s comment. 

‘You like her? You mean _like_ _like_ her?’ he asked dumbly, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. Bucky was unsure if this was a good sign or not. 

‘Wow, you really have the range of vocabulary of a middle school girl, Steve, I’m impressed,’ he said dryly, bringing up his metal hand to awkwardly rub at the back of his neck. It felt nice and cool against his flushed skin. ‘But I guess ‘like like’ is appropriate enough, which is crazy because we haven’t talked much yet. Now that I’m thinking about it, we haven’t been alone in a room at all, and here I’m saying that I might have feelings for her. How crazy does that make me?’ God, why was he babbling like a nervous wreck?

He let out a strained laugh as his fingers dug into the back of his neck reflexively to make the sound stop. Steve’s look of surprise had melted away as he’d rambled on and Bucky was hit with the burning certainty that he’d said too much. The younger man’s lips were pursed in thought, but his baby blues remained fixated on Bucky’s nervous expression.

On the surface, Steve had been very supportive of the choices he’d made in his recovery process, but he doubted that his friend considered him ready for a romantic relationship. There had always been an overprotective side to their friendship and Bucky had definitely been on the receiving end of it lately. If Steve thought he wasn’t ready for something, there existed a very small chance that he could be convinced to let Bucky do it. In moments like these, Bucky had to remind himself that Steve only had his best interests at heart, even if he was a dick for showing it through quick-snap judgement. 

Fortunately, Steve appeared to be taking his time with this one. The hard set of his mouth gradually relaxed until Bucky was able to recognize the ghost of a smile in his eyes. ‘I must be spectacularly blind if Tony was able to figure it out before me, huh? Even Natasha mentioned you had a thing for redheads back in the day.’ His expression was full of self-reproach. ‘How embarrassing.’ 

Bucky shrugged his shoulders helplessly. ‘To be fair, it’s not like I was offering my feelings up on a platter. I’ve had a lot of practice hiding any sort of emotion over the last seventy years. That doesn’t make you a bad friend.’

‘Still. I should have expected you to find your way back to it eventually. You were such a charmer back in the day, I’ll need to warn Tony that packs of girls will soon be circling the Tower to catch a glimpse of the winning Barnes smile,’ Steve said as he slid closer and slung an arm across his shoulders. A warm rush of affection rushed through Bucky at the touch. When he wasn’t able to find the right words to express his state of mind, friendly ribbing had always been Steve’s way of communicating that he was fine with whatever trouble Bucky had heaped upon his plate.. Overall, it was a good sign.

But Steve wasn’t done yet. He pulled Bucky further into his one-armed hug. ‘For my part, I don’t think you’re crazy, Buck,’ he whispered in Bucky’s ear so that FRIDAY wouldn’t be able to record them speaking, though he doubted the AI considered his romantic woes worthy of a special surveillance file. ‘God knows Pepper is an extraordinary woman that deserves all the good she can get. I think you’ll be just fine once you work up the courage to approach her. Don’t be afraid to lean on me if you need it, working as your wingman used to be my natural state of being. I’ve probably retained some tricks to make you look good.’

Bucky pushed against his shoulder with a burst of laughter. ‘You’re giving me dating advice now, that’s rich! How many people have you kissed in total Stevie? Just the one in seventy years?’

‘Hey, I’ll let you know Tony has excellent taste to go with his high standards.’ Steve waggled his eyebrows suggestively. ‘I have mastered the ins-and-outs of modern dating. My certificate is up in our bedroom.’

‘No matter how many times you mention your sex life, it never gets less disgusting.’

‘Eh. You can enact your revenge once you’ve got a few dates under your belt.’

‘I’ll hold you to that,’ Bucky promised as they parted with a last clap on the back, ‘although I’m sure Tony would disagree with me spreading all the salacious details about one of his best friends. I should ask him for permission when I get down in the workshop.’

Steve suddenly seemed inordinately pleased with himself. ‘Don’t underestimate him. He might bury you in an avalanche of details himself before the day’s over.’ His eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘Also, it’s Thursday, so you might want to change into your nice clothes.’

Bucky blinked in confusion at the non-sequitur. ‘Why? What’s so special about Thursdays?’ 

If possible, Steve’s expression turned even more smug. ‘Pepper and Toy have a scheduled appointment every Thursday morning to brief each other on Stark Industries’ stuff. You better brainstorm some lines before she gets here.’

‘Fuck. That conniving little shit.’ He was up on his feet before Steve had finished speaking. He looked down at his ratty comfort pyjama bottoms in despair. He should have been in the shower twenty minutes ago if he wanted to make it on time. No time to lose, then… 

‘Language!’ Steve shouted after him as he practically dashed through the door for the emergency stairs.


	2. Screwdriver Woes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The matchmaking commences...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Thanks for all the kudos and love. Here's your chapter for the day!
> 
> BTW, some concerns about what happens in this chapter have been brought to my attention. I will address them in the end notes to avoid spoilers.

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/cd/c0/EwoPzzkC_o.jpg)

*********************

In the following minutes Bucky put his army days showering record to shame. He was in and out of the water in a flash - luckily, Tony had outfitted all the Tower's bathrooms with the best plumbing money could buy, so he didn't have to deal with cold water. 

When he stepped back out of the shower, he caught sight of himself in the fogged-up mirror. His dishevelled, long hair clung to his cheeks in wet strings, giving him the appearance of a drowned cat. He looked like he'd done the day Steve had dragged him out of a Washington sewer, slightly deranged and uncared for. His skin hadn't soaked up any rays of sunshine last Summer due to his confinement to the rehabilitation center, and his skin tone remained the same sickly pale glow of that first day. On the bright side, the paleness helped to mask the mess of scars that spidered down from his shoulder. Under the hot water, the place where metal met flesh had turned an angry red as if to remind Bucky of how unwanted the modification had been. Like Bucky had had any choice in how Hydra chopped his arm off. At least, Tony had promised him that the new arm would be a lot easier on his body, less chafing and more lightweight, so he had that to look forward to. If the bionic arm was as close to completion as Tony had claimed this morning, he'd probably get to see some actual blueprints and mock-ups today.

With renewed vigour, he towelled off his body and hair, leaving the latter to air dry while he scrambled around his apartment to find an outfit and a set of matching socks that was more or less clean. He settled on a pair of dark jeans and a burgundy, long-sleeved shirt that Natasha had foisted upon him after one of her shopping trips. Apparently, it really brought out the bluish tint in his eyes. Bucky couldn't see it, but he trusted his fellow assassin to have enough fashion sense to know what she was talking about. Perhaps he could ask Pepper for a second opinion, because she always dressed smart and it would give him the perfect excuse to finally start a conversation with her.

Speaking of. 'FRIDAY, how long do I have until Tony forgets I exist?'

'Approximately five minutes, Sergeant Barnes. Boss is currently preparing the workstation and the beverages for yourself and Miss Potts.' Friday's voice was pleasantly calm and Bucky's nerves became instantly soothed despite her confirmation of the origin of his anxiety. Pepper was on her way.

Bucky tried to take deep breaths as he worked through the last steps of his morning routine, spraying on some cologne for good measure before he left his apartment. Excitement and fear warred for dominance of his thoughts as he rode the elevator down to the workshop.

If Pepper was going to show up - and let's not fool himself, she would - she was going to have a front row seat to a show of a very ugly part of himself. He could see that going two ways, either she'd reschedule her meeting with Tony at the first sight of his scars, or she'd politely sit it through until the end, bravely masking how nauseous the entire spectacle made her. Neither was an incentive for her to consider him dating material. What the hell was Tony thinking setting this up? It was going to be a disaster, Bucky just knew it.

His descent to the workshop seemed to last forever. The space inside the elevator wasn't exactly cramped, but Bucky started to feel like the walls were closing in about halfway down. He had to remind himself to keep his breathing slow and his mind focussed on the destination. Out of reflex, he began to catalogue every weak spot in the carriage, obscured spots and panels where Tony could have concealed Friday's cameras and speakers. The familiar mental routine tamped down his anxiety somewhat, but his posture remained too stiff, poised for a fight that would never happen. The long-awaited ding from the elevator freed him from the steel cage and he stepped onto the lab floor with a sigh of relief. 

Most of this floor was reserved as laboratory space for the scientifically-minded members of the Avengers and their close associates, such as Jane Foster and Helen Cho, but Tony's workshop occupied the largest section. Its reinforced, electric doors were the first sight that greeted visitors. Whenever Tony was engaged in an engineering binge, the usually transparent windows would turn a foreboding black as the genius shut out the rest of the world. Today, however, the windows were clear and Bucky could see straight inside to where Tony was wildly gesticulating at his bots. He recognized the drooping arm of DUM-E bowed over a spill of a suspiciously pink substance. Apparently, the bot had not yet given up on his quest to create the perfect smoothie. Bucky couldn't help but smile at its tenacity, though he sincerely hoped there'd been no explosive substances in this morning's concoction. He'd had enough of veggie sludge blowing up all over his face for a lifetime. 

Still smiling, he entered his personal code to unlock the door and stepped into the toasty hot bowels of the workshop. Turning the thermostat up during their maintenance appointments had been a request from Bucky, who hated the cold with a vengeance. The absence of cold air was absolutely integral to getting any work done on the arm, since Bucky much preferred the procedure to take place while he wasn't actively battling flashbacks. The change made it so that Steve didn't need to play chaperone to every session.

The sessions were made even more bearable by the manner in which Tony had set his maintenance workstation up. Bucky got his own dedicated corner of the workshop consisting of an adapted dentist's chair (that Tony had once used to work on the arc reactor by himself) and an entertainment station that he could use to distract himself from the goings-on. Usually, he'd catch a few episodes on Netflix or listen to the news or an audiobook while Tony tinkered away. If that got boring, there was still the breathtaking view of New York that was visible through a large set of full bay windows. The chair was positioned right in front of the one-way glass, so Bucky had no trouble surveying the city as he lounged. He'd dreamt away many hours like that.

Tony looked up at the sound of his footsteps and saluted him. He didn't look like he'd showered at all: his tank top carried the stains of a myriad oil changes and his hair was still in complete disarray.

'I wonder if DUM-E's colour-blind,' he said by way of greeting as Bucky wound his way through the collection of work benches and floating blue screens. 'Anyone with a functioning pair of eyes can see this pink contains a toxic component.'

'I don't know,' Bucky answered with a grin. 'With all those newfangled drinks at the coffee shops, it could turn out to be unicorn tears.'

Tony pulled a face. 'Yeah, I'll skip the sugary death, please.'

'Same. I suspect not even the serum would protect me from that kind of shock.'

'Let's not test that hypothesis before I've successfully attached a new arm onto that perfectly healthy body of yours. Take a seat before I die of inadequacy.' He waved Bucky over towards the converted dentist's chair. 'I'm going to clean this up before anyone trips and breaks their neck.' With that he bent down to soak up the sludge with a discarded oil rag.

Bucky started to move over to his corner when he was struck by an idea. He was about one-hundred percent sure that Tony had called him down with an ulterior motive, ergo matchmaking, but as far as Bucky knew the engineer didn't have a clue that he had uncovered his secret plans. He wondered how Tony would react if he dropped that bomb.

'Maybe you should tell Pepper to leave her high heels at the door to be safe.' He threw it over his shoulder casually, watching for Tony's reaction from the corner of his eye. The billionaire didn't disappoint.

He dropped his cleaning rag with a startled splutter. It made an uncomfortable squelching sound as it hit the floor, but Tony didn't seem to care. He pinned Bucky with a furious stare. 'Steve… that traitorous… I'm never sharing my schedule with him again.'

Bucky hopped onto onto the chair with a gruff laugh. 'Don't kid yourself, Stark. You can't keep a secret from Steve to save your life. He's got you wrapped around his finger.'

'Yeah. Normally it's a great place to be, but I'm allowed to be salty from time to time,' Tony hissed, his eyes narrowing. Bucky braced himself for the verbal sting that was coming.  _ 'Like you _ , for example. You have the salt down but lack the sweet. You're the horrible piece of sour liquorice on this team. Last to be put into the shopping cart.'

Bucky rolled his eyes. 'First, that's weak. Second, you think setting me up with one of your best friends is going to get me all sweetened up? You're delusional.'

Tony picked up his rag with a grumble, extending his arm to keep the wet cloth as far away from himself as possible. Pink fluid dripped from the ends. 'Maybe, but I couldn't mistake that look in your eye last week,' he continued, racing towards the sink. 'There was a definite spark of interest. On some nebulous level, Pepper checks all the right boxes for you and I'm not the type to begrudge my friends a spot of mutual fun even if it doesn't turn into something long-term.'

_ Mutual _ ? That was an intriguing slip of the tongue. The tiny spark of hope inside his chest blazed up in a jittery dance and Bucky had to force his face not to show his sudden flare of nervous energy. He quickly laid back onto the chair so Tony wouldn't get avoid look at his expression.

The engineer didn't seem to be in a hurry to press the advantage though, taking his time to wash out the rag and putter around the workshop. Only when the clear chime of the elevator arriving on their floor sounded, did he approach Bucky.

'Showtime,' he whispered conspiratorially as he settled down on a swivel chair. Bucky barely suppressed the urge to wipe the smirk off his face as Tony took hold of his bionic limb and arranged it on the arm of the chair for easy access. Too late to run, Bucky realized, he was stuck in the workshop until Tony would decide to let him go. 

He'd scarcely finished the thought when the doors to the workshop slid open and Pepper strode in, notepad clutched closely to her chest. His breath left his lungs in a long sigh. From past experience, he'd expected her to be dressed to the nines, ready to rule the boardroom with an iron fist. That was not the version of Pepper that he got today. Compared to his mental vision of her, this Pepper appeared soft around the edges, dressed in a thick, fluffy sweater and skinny jeans. She could have been plucked right off the street from the crowd of Christmas shoppers. Bucky thought she looked lovely and at ease in a manner that did not scream 'I can eviscerate you with my stilettos.' The unforeseen change left him reeling. Almost as in a dream, he watched her glide over to them.

'Good to see you managed to get out of bed for once, Tony,' she said as she leaned down to press a fleeting kiss against his cheek. 'I was worried for a second when I ran into Steve on the way out. He had this peculiar look of guilt. I thought for sure he'd left you to laze around in bed.'

'And miss a chance to have a chat with the light of my life? Never.'

Pepper shook her head in fond disbelief. 'Whatever you tell yourself.' Then, her gaze finally shifted and landed on Bucky, half-hidden by the tall back of the chair. 'Good morning to you too, Sergeant Barnes. I hope my presence won't disturb you overly much. I can reschedule--'

'No, no,' Bucky nearly choked on his words in his hurry to assure her. 'I'm good.' All at once, he couldn't imagine a worse thing than her leaving. He desperately wanted more time to drink in the sight of her, alien but wonderful at the same time. So what if he'd have to forego on his usual Netflix binge to listen to some boring corporate drivel? That was a bargain he'd accept without hesitation.

'You can stay as long as you like,' he finished lamely. God, that sounded patronizing. 

By the way the corners of her eyes crinkled in a smile, Pepper seemed to forgive his unfortunate choice of words. 'Sure will,' she said and surprised Bucky once again by not taking a seat next to Tony, but instead circling around the converted chair to grab a seat on his other side. She literally put him in the centre of the conversation. 

'You're in luck today, Sergeant Barnes,' she continued in good humour as she made herself comfortable, notepad placed neatly on her lap. 'Tony and I won't be discussing trade secrets today, so there will be no need for you to sign a non-disclosure agreement.'

He didn't quite know how to respond, so he settled on a polite, ‘That's...great?'

Not looking up from his perusal of his tools, Tony snorted loudly. 'Like you need a contract to keep a secret. You were practically a walking mystery for seventy years. Discretion personified.'

Pepper's attention didn't drift away from Bucky. 'Really? I'll keep that in mind for the future.' 

Bucky felt hot, too big for his skin while she silently scrutinized him. His stomach started turning itself into knots as the silence lengthened. He realized with a jolt that she probably wanted him to fill it, but what did you tell a civilian about your tenure as a living weapon? Much less a civilian you actually wanted to like you? There was no good answer that said ‘Hey, I’m a cool guy, even if I have a kill list that is long enough to wallpaper your apartment with.’ Bucky licked his lips nervously.

The seafoam-blue of Pepper’s eyes softened in sympathy as he shifted uncomfortably against the leather of the chair. She took mercy on him by finally directing her attention to Tony. 'I don't mean to keep you from your work. I'm sure you can get some work done while we go over the agenda.'

'Good idea,' Tony agreed, finally selecting a sharp-looking screwdriver from the pile on his workstation. 'Why don't we start with what the shareholders thought about the quarterly results? Get all the boring stuff out of the way before Buckaroo falls asleep on us.'

Just for that Bucky contracted the plates in his metal arm extra hard when the genius’s fingers started to search out the edges where he could open up the casing. Tony removed his hands with a high-pitched noise, examining the tips of his fingers for pinched skin. 

‘I’m awake, Stark,’ Bucky drawled, slowly lifting one eyebrow. ‘But are you?’ 

At his other side, Pepper smothered a laugh into the palm of her hand. Her eyes twinkled merrily at him as he chanced a peek at her from over his shoulder. When she removed her hand, her grin was still wide enough to make her cheeks bunch up. Bucky suddenly felt a lot more heartened about this entire matchmaking plot. 

Yeah, maybe there was something of that old Barnes’ attitude left in him.

Now his fingers weren’t under threat anymore, Tony gently pried open the first plate above Bucky’s wrist and adjusted the overhead light so he could peer at the mess of wires that carried electric impulses to his hand. He'd slipped on a pair of reading glasses that Steve would very likely find adorable. 

'Alrighty, before I get all distracted by the wonders of running a billion-dollar company, I’d better tell you what this maintenance session is all about.’ Tony absently touched the screwdriver to an exposed wire, causing sparks to fly up. Bucky shivered involuntarily and one of his metal fingers spasmed. 

Tony hummed, ‘Sorry about that, but there's one category we need to absolutely beat this Soviet beauty at, and that's limb articulation. I'm not going to remove this arm before I've got one hundred percent confirmation that mine does it better. Please engage in some improvised finger ballet while Pepper tells me how bad of a businessman I’ve been this year.’ Obediently, Bucky started moving his fingers one by one, so he could make a map of the pathways. As Tony practically buried his face inside the circuitry, Pepper flicked open her notebook and began to read out her notes.

As predicted by Tony, the following minutes of the appointment were extremely dull. Pepper and Tony threw names and dates back and forth like they were engaged in some obscure tennis match. Occasionally, Bucky recognized a name that belonged to a funder of the Avengers or the local city council, but the rest quickly turned into a jumbled mess. He had trouble believing that Tony could follow along any better than him with his attention divided between two tasks like this. On the surface the man appeared completely engrossed in the inner-workings of the arm, but his reactions came at rapid-fire speed. 

Pepper's pen flew over the pages of her notebook as she added annotations. Almost inevitably, his gaze was drawn down to her hands. Her fingers flexed delicately as they moved across the page with an elegant confidence, controlled like every other part of her. It was a far dream from Bucky's own situation. Every time he glanced down at the metal arm spilling its electrical guts onto the arm of the chair, he was filled with a deep sense of revulsion. His hands made him a monster, Pepper's only made her more competent. 

In contrast, Tony never seemed to be overly bothered by the fact he was handling the weapon that murdered both his parents, or he hid it very well. According to what Natasha had told him, the first few days after the engineer had been told the news had been rough, with Tony pushing away any kind of outside help as he drank himself into a stupor inside the workshop. The stand-off had only been broken when Steve had busted himself a path inside and taken charge of Tony’s care. Whatever had passed between them after was unknown to any of the other Avengers, but it appeared to have cleared Tony of any kind of resentment towards Bucky himself. He’d gone as far as providing Steve and Sam with backup as they tracked The Soldier down through the United States. Once Bucky’d been reeled back in, the maintenance session became a weekly occurrence as he acclimated to life among old friends and superpowered new ones. He had much to be grateful towards Tony for.

A sharp pain lanced up the arm and through his shoulder, making him convulse for a few seconds. Bucky gritted his teeth and threw his head back against the chair as the electric current passed through his body. He could hear somebody shouting in panic over the static inside his skull, but he couldn’t tell if it was Tony or Pepper. (Though Tony should be used to this kind of thing, since he accidentally tasered Bucky on the regular.)

Eventually, the current ebbed, and he sucked in a deep breath. For a long minute he stared up at the bright, white tile of the ceiling as his heart rate began to slow from a gallop to a vigorous trot. Tony and Pepper zoomed around him like a pack of angry bees, their words gradually becoming intelligible through the ringing in his ears.

‘....dangerous, Tony. You never told me it was this dangerous! When you invited me to come watch your progress on the new prosthetics line, I wasn’t exactly expecting to be witness to torture. How are we ever going to market them to the public, if these are the side effects?’ That was Pepper’s voice, shrill from panic, though she had no reason to be afraid. 

‘I’ve been telling you for months,’ Tony spoke now, vaguely impatient as he no doubt hurried to fix whatever wires he’d disrupted. ‘The prosthetics I’m developing won’t have this issue. You’re looking at antiquated tech that has been maintained by idiots for the last few decades. But I need to know this one in and out before I can even think of putting mine into production.’

‘Oh, and so he has to suffer?’ Pepper sneered in reply. ‘James is your guinea pig?’ Bucky blinked at the unexpected use of his full name and managed to tilt his head down just enough to catch a glimpse of her. Pepper’s cheeks were rapidly growing redder than her hair, but Bucky was more taken aback by her proximity to him. She was practically standing over him, stomach pressed against the edge of the chair cushion as she rested her hands over his flesh arm. Her fingers brushed along his skin as another tremor passed through him. Her touch tingled like little sparks of heat.

‘For fuck’s sake, Pep, he volunteered,’ Tony fired back. Bucky could hear him flipping the plates open and closed in agitation. ‘Replacing his arm will make not only his life better, but also that of countless others. What’s a bit of pain in the face of progress?’

Pepper spluttered angrily. ‘You’re such a--’

‘Enormous bastard?’ Bucky offered tiredly. Pepper’s grip on his arm tightened briefly in surprise before she collected herself.

‘I was going more for futuristic imbecile, but that’s a great suggestion.’

‘Sticks and stones,’ Tony singsonged. He shifted something over in the arm and Bucky sagged in relief as the static finally dissipated. ‘See, now I know it’s a royally bad idea to connect the pain receptors to the overload circuit. Not that I didn’t know that before, but it’s valuable intel.’

Pepper huffed and lifted her hands from his arm. Bucky wondered if she’d been trying to hold him still while Tony worked through the seizure, if so, he’d have liked to see how she managed to keep his 118 kilograms of muscle down. Maybe she was like Bruce and got really strong when she became upset? Nah, then she’d be an Avenger for sure.

The anger seemed to be draining out of her frame, anyway. She leant in slightly to address him, ‘Are you quite alright, Sergeant Barnes?’ Back to formality, huh? He didn’t like that. ‘I can get Tony to back off this instant if you need some time.’

Determined, Bucky swallowed and shook his head. 

‘It’s all good,’ he croaked. ‘Happens all the time. The serum will make sure that I’ll be up and running in a minute. You can sit back down and relax.’

Pepper shot him a look that was highly sceptical, but dragged her chair closer nonetheless. ‘Maybe we should talk about less diverting topics, so Tony can concentrate on not killing you.’

‘Sounds good to me.’ He would attempt a smile if he didn’t think it would make him look like a loony. 

‘And I know just what to talk about!’ Tony piped up. He’d moved on from the sensitive wiring in the Bucky’s wrist and was now examining the insides of his bicep. ‘The gala’s this Saturday, right? I’ve been dying to know if you’ve wizened up after all these years and picked red and gold for the colour scheme.’

‘I most definitely did not,’ Pepper replied without hesitation. ‘It’s lavender and blue this year, so make sure your tie doesn’t clash for once.’

'Gala?' Even through the pounding of his head, Bucky could sense the trouble that word spelled out for him. The last time he’d been comfortable wearing a dress uniform had been the night before he'd been shipped out. He'd moved around the Stark Exposition feeling like a regular prince charming, literally peacocking for the girls who'd been invited along. The urge to dress fancy had lessened right along with the intensity of his smile.

Nowadays, he dressed with The Soldier's pragmatism informing his every choice. Avoid bright colours and patterns, select the most durable materials, wear shoes that are all-terrain. If it doesn't help you make a quick getaway or disappear into a crowd, discard it. Simple rules. Easy peasy. Tuxedos didn't vibe with the whole brutally competent assassin persona.

'Oh didn't I tell you? I swore I put the invite up on the fridge,' Tony said deviously as he twirled a screwdriver between his fingers. 'Well, you're formally invited to the Maria Stark Foundation annual charity gala. It's Saturday evening, 7:30 PM, formal wear mandatory, guest appearances from all your favourite Avengers.' He turned to Pepper. 'Did I forget anything?'

Pepper shook her head with exasperated fondness. 'You got the gist of it, though I'd appreciate it more if you had informed everyone like I asked of you.'

'I did!' Tony replied indignantly. 'At team dinner of all places, but Buckaroo here hates Thai food,' - that was true, Bucky preferred not to have a hole burned into his tongue - 'and he was hiding in the gym. It must have slipped my mind to tell him after.'

A clear British voice interrupted him: 'As I remember it, sir, you pretty much ordered me not to mention it to Sergeant Barnes, so I hardly think that's a fair representation of events.'

Tony glared up at the ceiling. 'And you’re being donated to the closest community college, tattletale.'

The feeling of discomfort Bucky had been experiencing intensified. He knew the other Avengers were concerned about his reclusive tendencies, but it hurt to realize they felt the need to scheme behind his back, especially since he was still kind of sensitive towards interacting with large crowds and the press. He'd spent his first press conference desperately trying to hide his broader frame behind Steve's. Since then, he'd gotten much better with handling the attention: giving solo interviews in the aftermath of their battles, visiting the VA with Steve and Sam, occasionally signing a child's vintage Bucky bear. As long as he was given the heads up, he was willing to do whatever PR-stunt the team needed him to. Bucky thought they'd have known that by now. 

Irritation bubbled up inside his chest and he clenched his metal fist to keep Tony from getting at the wiring again. The engineer looked up, startled by the disruption. He made sure to let a bit of The Soldier bleed into his voice, so there was no mistaking his anger as he stared Tony in the eye.

_ 'Next time, you tell me _ .'

At least, Tony had the courtesy to not attempt to talk himself out of it. 'Alright. Next time, we'll make it an official team meeting. That suit you?'

'It's a start.' He loosened his fist, exposing the wiring once again, but couldn't find it in himself to relax like before. Pepper had stayed suspiciously quiet during their exchange and Bucky felt the bottom drop out of his stomach as he caught sight of her pale face. 

'Maybe I should go now and let you finish in peace,' Pepper kept her voice perfectly level, but Bucky could see the way her knuckles had turned white where she'd clamped them around her notebook. 

_ Shit _ . He'd definitely scared her off now, as if his crazy cyborg situation hadn't freaked her out enough.

She was up from her seat before he or Tony could ask her to stay. 'We'll continue with arrangements tomorrow, Tony. Jarvis, remind him to set an alarm.'

'Will do, ma'am.'

'Goodbye, Sergeant Barnes.' Her watery smile hit him like a punch to the gut as she disappeared behind the back of the chair. He couldn't help but listen to her footsteps fading away until the swoosh of the door cut the sound of entirely.

Sagging on his chair, Tony let out a long breath. 'I will admit, that could have gone better, but all's not lost.' He started on the long process of closing the arm back up. 'You didn't piss her off with an inappropriate remark, so that has to count for something. I've done that loads of times and she's much less gentle with me.'

Bucky groaned and covered his eyes with his flesh hand. 'Great. Am I at least getting an arm out of this matchmaking shit show?'

Tony clapped him on the knee in sympathy. 'Let me tell you a little secret, I finished the first prototype two weeks ago. As soon as the gala's over, it's yours.'

'Asshole.'

'Grumpy bear.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter, please consider leaving a comment or kudos.
> 
> About Tony accidentally electrocuting Bucky:  
> This was in no way meant to be read as Tony doing intentional harm to Bucky. The prototype Tony is working on is still based on a lot of conjecture. He's unsure if it will work in exactly the same manner as the Hydra arm. That's why he's desperate to figure the internal workings out and gets a little careless in the process.


	3. Fitting Intervention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chappie for you! My love of pasta is once again completely obvious.
> 
> Huntress79 has posted her complete art set for this fic here : https://archiveofourown.org/works/23123860 !  
> (and you can also admire the awesome banner in the first chapter)

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/ed/02/l6U5CfvU_o.jpg)

*********************

After Tony ran a final simulation on the arm, Bucky returned to his apartment with an air of defeat. He'd made himself scarce before the engineer could begin to feel too sorry for him, because he had zero desire to add another participant to the pity party playing itself out inside his head. No, for once Bucky could really use some quiet, a pint of ice cream and a dumb soap opera to drown out the sick feeling he got in his stomach whenever he thought back to Pepper's hurried departure. He'd fucked that up royally. So much for leftover charm. He should have known that he was more Soldier than James Buchanan Barnes. What did he expect? That she'd trip over her own feet in a rush to spend more time with him?

_ Pathetic _ , The Soldier muttered at the back of his mind. Bucky couldn't find it in him to disagree, so he did what he knew best: he retreated to his safe space and indulged in all his favourite coping mechanisms. Predictably, he wound up on his couch, swaddled in a pile of blankets. Instead of going down to the common floor for lunch, he snacked on his secret fruit stash. That's how Natasha found him an hour later, sticky plum juice trailing down his chin. She looked about as unimpressed at the sight as he felt miserable.

'Tony told me what happened,' she said straight away, foregoing a 'hello' as she blocked his view of the television. No beating around the bush with the Black Widow.

Bucky wiped the juice from his chin with his sleeve and grunted in acknowledgement. 'And you're here to do what, rub it in? I'm a grown man, Natalia, I don't need you to coddle me and make me feel better about myself.'

'Could have fooled me,' she replied sharply, gesturing to the mess of discarded peach pits on the small table. Bucky winced as he realized just how many he'd demolished in the past hour. He really needed to keep a closer eye on his eating habits, especially since the serum wasn't the greatest at letting him know when he was malnourished or overeating. Stress eating hadn't been something he'd had to cope with back in the forties, because there hadn't been much around to eat in the first place. In the overabundance and consumerism of the twenty-first century, he was discovering all kinds of new things about himself. At least his food fixation was more or less healthy, he thought morosely. Though he did have that addiction to chocolate going on… 

Folding her arms, Natasha regarded him expectantly, dropping all pretense of being a stoic, cold-hearted assassin. She looked about one step away from tapping her foot in impatience. Bucky didn’t quite know what she was waiting for, some sort of explanation maybe. 

So far, she’d always been the last Avenger to judge him in any shape or form for his actions, past or present. Thanks to their similar traumatic pasts, they’d been pretty friendly from the start. Natasha was the person he ran to when he experienced setbacks in his recovery, his confidante. His therapist had pushed him to verbalize his emotions more as his recovery progressed, and Natasha made a logical conversation partner. She possessed the uncanny ability to interpret his silences just as accurately as his words. Which made it all the more annoying that she was now expecting him to express himself solely with words.

Retreating further into his blanket cocoon, Bucky dropped his gaze to the floor in hopes of escaping her silent demand. He should have known that Natasha was too tenacious to let that childish tactic stop her. She broke the impasse with a long sigh. 

‘Listen,’ she said, stepping away from the television, which Jarvis had helpfully turned off. Her eyes gleamed with intent. ‘I get that you need some space to sort out your thoughts and we want to respect that as a team. As your friend, however, I’d like to remind you that you don’t need to stew here alone.’

‘Great,’ Bucky spit out, refusing to meet her gaze. ‘Thanks for coming. I’ll try to keep that in mind for the future.’ 

‘Thanks for having me,’ Natasha shot back sardonically. ‘But forgive me if I don’t run straight to the door. I wanted to ask you a question.’ 

Distrust rushed to the surface of his thoughts as Bucky instinctively inched away from her. Natasha only followed him with her gaze, which had returned to its usual inscrutable state. She was definitely planning something.

Bucky disentangled his legs from the blanket and planted his feet firmly on the floor, ready to make a quick getaway if her line of questioning wouldn’t turn out to be so innocent. ‘Shoot.’ 

The left corner of Natasha’s mouth curled up in amusement at his nervous reaction. ‘Do you remember what I told you after the first time you accidentally attacked Steve in your sleep?’ 

Bucky sure did. Amid an array of fuzzy and confused memories that one stood out like a sore thumb, down to the very last detail. If he closed his eyes, he could still see his metal fist swinging towards Steve’s startled face, the harsh sound of bone breaking as he shattered his nose and part of his cheekbone. Back then, he had just started the process of deprogramming via BARF, and he and The Soldier had been fighting for control constantly. The assassin had taken the opportunity posed by Bucky’s sleepy confusion to lunge at Steve and wrestle him to the floor. By the time Tony had burst into the room in full armour and subdued him with a repulsor blast to the back of the head, Steve had been going blue in the face. 

Most of all, however, he remembered the bone-deep sense of defeat that had lingered for weeks after, how the doubt had eaten away at him during every subsequent BARF-session. He’d questioned if he was worth the effort of all these brilliant people every single day. In the third week, he’d decided to run away when Steve and Tony were abroad for a mission. He’d almost succeeded in disappearing into the fabric of New York, living the life of a vagrant was no great discomfort after years of systematic dehumanization. It was almost peaceful to mindlessly wander the streets without having to deal with the pressure of a mission objective. He did so for six days before he felt the emptiness inside him start to ache. And there had been no role he could take on to fill it, no Stevie to soothe the gaping wound, no team that could put a rifle in his hands and make him believe he was doing the right thing. Roaming the streets gradually lost its charm, the city air started to muddle his thoughts instead of sharpening them, and eventually his feet carried him to areas that he knew Tony kept surveillance on. 

From there, it had been a matter of hours before Natasha tracked him down in a hipster coffee bar off Sullivan Street where he’d taken refuge from the rain. Noiselessly, she’d sat down across from him, passed him a hot cocoa, and recounted her own deprogramming journey from bloody beginning to superheroic end. Of course, he’d known what she’d been doing, not making him feel so alone by describing her matching history, but that hadn’t stopped the hollowness in his chest from slowly filling up with warmth. That evening, he’d returned to the Tower with a few extra scraps of Black Widow wisdom tucked away inside his brain.

Bucky let out a heavy sigh, recalling the resolute set of her mouth as she’d filled the air with blood-drenched memories. ‘You told me recovery is not a straight line. It’s a rollercoaster that keeps looping all over itself.’

‘Right,’ Natasha nodded, satisfied. ‘And I seem to remember I added that while neither of us can claim to be good people, we are still capable of doing good deeds.’ She sidled up in one fluid movement and grasped the edge of his blanket, pulling it away from his face. 

‘What you’re doing right now, isolating yourself, that’s not helping you to make up for whatever you think you did wrong this morning. It might not have lived up to what you intended it to be, but that doesn’t mean you can’t give it another shot. To do a good deed you have to put yourself out there.’

_ Easier said than done _ , Bucky wanted to say, but the words stuck in his throat. His hands felt weak and useless as Natasha easily pried the rest of the blanket free from around his shoulders, exposing his hunched form to her concerned gaze.

‘The best thing you can do now is to put it from your mind,’ she said sincerely, carefully tilting his chin up with a finger, so she could assess the storm raging inside his mind. ‘Allow me to help you forget for a bit, until you’ve found your feet again.’

Bucky forced his flesh hand to reach up and close around hers as she offered it. ‘Any suggestions? I’m not sure I can think of any activity that would help me clear my head.’

‘Well, it might not clear your head entirely,’ Natasha hedged, pulling at his hand until he obligingly got to his feet. ‘But it’s something I know you enjoyed back in the day.’

Confused at her evasive reply, Bucky cocked his head. ‘And what would that be?’

Natasha’s expression turned coy. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what made James Buchanan Barnes the talk of the town back in the day? I saw the pictures. You had impeccable taste in suits when you could afford them. I want to see if we can recapture some of the magic.’

Bucky pulled a face. He didn’t know if fashion could become something he was into after years of wearing heavy combat gear and outfits that were assembled from chain store basics. ‘This isn’t some weird experiment to see if I’m susceptible to retail therapy, is it?’

Laughing softly, Natasha linked her arm with his and drew him away from the safety of the couch. ‘Nah, I was going more for a boost of confidence. So what do you say, accompany me to the city? Tony’s arranged us an appointment with his tailor for final adjustments to our gala attire. The snake passed on all our measurements and picked out the designs behind everyone’s backs. I want to see if his good taste holds up when it comes to women’s clothing.’

Bucky rolled his eyes. ‘Nat, you’d look good in a potato sack. Besides, why is he so desperate for me to attend his fancy gala all of a sudden?’

‘He’s not the only one,’ Natasha informed him as they stepped into the elevator. ‘You’re a part of the family. Mom and dad will be heartbroken if you don’t show up.’

‘If Steve’s the dad, then I’m the crazy uncle. Traditionally, we’re not great to have at parties.’

‘Really?’ Natasha asked dryly as she pressed the button for the underground garage. ‘Because I heard from a very reliable source that you used to be great at them. You’ll see, we’ll rediscover your dancing legs yet.’

His stomach twisted itself into a knot at the image of a busy dance floor, people laughing and having fun while he was thrown back and forth, struggling to remember any of the steps. ‘God, I hope not.’

Sensing the topic of dancing was driving him back to a dark place, Natasha shrugged. ‘Or not. That’s not important for now. However,  _ this _ is.’ She fished a set of keys from her back pocket and gave them a little twirl. ‘These are the keys to Tony’s 2016 Audi R8. If we’re trying to focus on moving forward, we might as well do it in style. If we act fast, Tony won’t have time to lock down the garage.’

Bucky knew the car she was talking about. Sleek and designed within an inch of its life, he had secretly hungered after taking it for a spin many a time. Reflexively, his hand shot out to steal the platinum keyring away from her. It jangled merrily in his grip. 

‘I’m driving,’ he told her, superfluously. 

Natasha’s only response was a bright grin. 

Maybe this day wouldn’t turn out to be all bad.

They left the Tower’s underground garage in their commissioned Audi R8 to the sound of screeching tires and Tony cursing over the intercom. Bucky hit the gas and swerved them into Manhattan traffic. He briefly caught a flash of his own reflection in the rearview mirror, the adrenaline had caused his grin to grow wide enough to match Natasha’s. Taking one of Tony’s shiny baubles out for a spin was one of her favourite pastimes, and Bucky had to admit there was a certain appeal to outwitting the billionaire’s security system.

Unfortunately, their escape slowed down considerably once they hit the main road. Rush hour had passed, but there were enough cars making their way to the financial heart of the city that Bucky could see a tailback forming ahead. 

‘Take the carpool lane,’ Natasha advised, leaning over to indicate the direction he needed to go in. ‘We’re heading up north, so we stay on Park or switch over to 3rd.’

‘I know,’ Bucky replied, switching gears to slow down to a speed more compliant with the legal limit. ‘I grew up in this city.’

Natasha held up her hands in surrender. ‘Just a suggestion.’

Shaking his head fondly, Bucky wove the Audi through traffic. He took to navigating through the side streets on purpose, just to see the faces Natasha made when she thought he was too concentrated on driving to notice. All things considered, she handled the frustration of letting a stubborn centenarian drive well, only occasionally providing him with further directions as the hubbub of traffic made orientation difficult. 

They did make it to Tony’s tailor in a respectable time and Bucky was pleased to see that the store wasn’t one of those big commercial ones that typically advertised to high-end clientele. The shop was housed in a brownstone for one, keeping with the vintage style of brick and iron. Tony apparently frequented the place enough to have a permanently reserved parking spot out front that Bucky deftly backed the Audi into. Natasha was out of the car in a hurry before the motor was shut off. Cursing, Bucky scrambled after her. 

A copper bell rung overhead as they entered the humble store. Inside, the tailor’s shop leaned even further into the vintage look. Bucky gasped quietly as he took in hardwood panelling and copper finishings. If there hadn’t been any cloth racks and rolls of fabric stockpiled all around, he could have imagined himself stepping back into the past. A good few decades ago, this would have been a café, welcoming exhausted labourers after a long day’s work at the docks or in the city’s factories. Whenever Steve’s health hadn’t had him rushing back home with expensive medicine, Bucky had been among that crowd, grateful to accept a stiff drink. He’d lean his weary body against the bar and just breathe in the atmosphere. Instinctively, he inhaled deeply and felt the tense muscles in his body relax. Even the sharp scent of old varnish was the same, he noted with a pang of nostalgia. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw that Natasha was watching him curiously. He wanted to communicate to her what had just passed through him, but his tongue felt thick and lazy in his mouth, like it would have after a couple glasses of whisky. Odd. The last time he’d got drunk had been right before setting out with Steve and the Howling Commandos. Bucky swallowed heavily to dispel the sensation. The sound of a door opening and closing came from the back of the shop and Bucky abruptly lost all interest to discuss his strange experience with Natasha. The last thing he needed right now was for some gossip about his questionable mental stability to start floating around. 

A tall, middle-aged gentleman emerged from behind the racks and cabinets that screened off a second fitting area from the one they were standing in now. If he was surprised to find two Avengers in his humble store, he did not show it. Instead, a brilliant smile nearly split his face in two.

‘Mademoiselle Romanoff,’ he greeted warmly, stepping forward to kiss Natasha on both cheeks. ‘Always a delight. Monsieur Stark called in a minute ago to announce that you were coming. He sounded quite distressed, I do hope nothing’s wrong.’

Natasha let out a peal of laughter. ‘We might have borrowed his car without asking permission first. You know how he gets, Henri. He’ll have gotten over it by the time we return.’

‘I’ll take your word for it,’ Henri said, inclining his head obligingly. Then, he turned to greet Bucky and a look of mild curiosity stole over his face. ‘And who have you brought along for me this time?’

Natasha spread her arm in Bucky’s direction like she was presenting the tailor with her favourite child. ‘I’ve brought you Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.’

‘Bucky’s fine,’ he interjected quickly, offering his flesh hand for a shake. He could feel the tips of his ears turning red at her hyped-up introduction. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

‘Likewise,’ Henri nodded politely as he returned the offer with a firm shake. ‘And I’m even more pleased to meet the man that is meant to fit into the dress uniform I have hanging on my special custom rack. Monsieur Stark was acting all mysterious by only passing your measurements on, but since you are the last member of the military to come in for a fitting, I must conclude it's yours.’

‘That’s a fair guess.’ Bucky cringed internally. So it was going to be the Stark Expo all over again. He hoped he’d not have to spend the entire gala dreading what was to come the following day. That would hit too close to home.

Henri didn’t let Bucky’s nervousness curb his enthusiasm. With a grand gesture he waved Natasha and Bucky towards the back. ‘No time to waste, then! Mademoiselle Romanoff, I have your dress ready for you in the cubicle, please tell me if there are any more adjustments needed. Sergeant Barnes, on the platform, please.’

Wide-eyed and a little panicked at being left alone with this stranger, Bucky recoiled from the invite. ‘Can’t I also get a cubicle? There’s only so much that can go wrong with a dress uniform, right? Natasha deserves all the attention.’

Unmoved by his display, Henri shook his head determinedly. ‘No can do. Her, I’ve worked with before, I know her body from head to toe. You’re the new blood, I need to discover what fits you.’ Somehow, that made it sound even worse and more than a bit creepy, but Natasha was already nodding in support of the tailor’s plan.

‘I trust you can get that tight ass of yours onto that platform without me holding your hand,’ she said in a voice that brooked no argument. It was the same tone she used to convince particularly hard-headed politicians of the long-term benefits of the Avengers Initiative. ‘Relax and let Henri work his magic. It will be over in a flash. Think about is as desensitization training, if that helps.’

He highly doubted that Hydra had ever imagined its secret weapon being subjected to a tailoring session as a valuable part of training. Concern about what he wore on mission had been minimal since his outfits hardly ever wore out in the time he spent out of cryo. Military fatigues had made up the majority of The Soldier’s wardrobe. But Natasha kind of had a point, a more reasonable part of his brain admitted. Maybe the time had finally arrived for him to come out of his shell and interact more with the world outside of his role as an Avenger. After all, if he was really planning on attending the Maria Stark Foundation gala, strangers were going to be all over him. Henri might make for a good warm-up, well-meaning as he was…

Coming to a decision, Bucky exhaled sharply. ‘Okay. Let’s get it over with.’

The following hour-and-a-half was a flurry of activity as he followed Henri's instructions to strip, get dressed again and take on all kind of poses so the seams could be properly adjusted. The charcoal gray dress uniform's design held somewhere in the middle of what he'd worn back in the forties and what veterans were outfitted with nowadays. Gradually his nerves drained away as the heavy fabric became a familiar weight on his shoulders and the ghost of James Buchanan Barnes settled inside him with a deep sigh. 

When Natasha flitted out of her cubicle, she eyed the relaxed set of his shoulders with a tentative smile and congratulated Henri on a job well-done. 

Magic indeed.

Another half hour and a lot of accidental pinpricks because of Bucky's antsiness later, Henri rubbed his hands together in glee as both former assassins walked up and down the store in a strange approximation of New York fashion week.

'Splendid,' he declared, motioning for them to drop the little show. 'I will only need to make some minor adjustments. Tomorrow morning, I'll have your outfits delivered to the Tower. Look for my courier between nine and ten. That should leave you with sufficient time to check for defects before the gala.'

'Knowing you, we'll find none,' Natasha said teasingly as she swanned off in her floor-length gown. She seemed mightily pleased by the way the long skirt swished around her feet as she disappeared into her cubicle. 

Surprisingly, Tony had picked out a light turquoise fabric with darker accents for her instead of his signature red and gold. It was a wonderful choice, the frosty blue complimented her creamy skin well. No doubt, the color scheme had been selected with her date in mind. By now, Sam was well-known by the fashion bloggers for his preference towards lighter-coloured suits. A smile crept on to Bucky's face at the image his two friends would cut on the red carpet. The couple that slayed together, stayed together. 

In a much improved mood, Bucky carefully shrugged out of his suit jacket and handed it back to Henri to put on the rack. 'Thanks for putting up with me. I haven't looked this good since the war.'

Henri shot him a crooked grin. 'Gunpowder is not conducive to high fashion, or so my father claimed. I do hope you'll keep this one free of all kinds of battle dust.'

Bucky let out a laugh. 'I'll try.'

After both the outfits were safely added to Tony's tab, Henri sent them on their merry way, promising he'd keep his schedule open for emergency adjustments if they had need of them. Bucky resolved to give the man a call in the future whenever he was presented with a situation that required him to make a fashion statement. 

Whistling slightly, he stepped outside the store, rummaged through his pocket for the car keys and froze abruptly. The spot where he’d parked the Audi only two hours before was now horrifyingly vacant. The white-painted Avengers logo on the asphalt gleamed mockingly in the diminishing sunlight. 

'What the-' he trailed off, expecting the car to reappear from thin air. Had they activated the stealth mode by accident?

Coming up behind him, he heard Natasha groan as she too noted the conspicuous absence of their borrowed vehicle. 

'You've got to be kidding me. He's such a child,' she said, a thin layer of venom coating her words. Bucky didn't need to see the exasperation in her eyes to know she was referring to Tony.

'He can pilot his cars from a distance now?' He asked, half-impressed. The part of him that had been obsessed with pulp science fiction novels was titillated by the prospect of self-driving cars, though he really wished Tony would invest some time in actually making one fly too. Maybe he could request one for Christmas this year.

'He's done so with the suits before,’ Natasha huffed, kicking a loose pebble on the pavement and watching it skitter off into an iron grate. ‘The wiring in expensive cars is nothing compared to them. He's probably installed a similar feature in Steve's bike.'

'Hmm. Possessive.' Bucky would bet his vintage shaving set that Steve wasn't aware of that little tidbit. How good of a payback would telling him be? 

'That's good old Tony.' With a sigh, Natasha wandered over to the corner of the street and peered up at the facade of the hardware store on the other side. It took him a second to realize she was squinting up at a security camera monitoring them.

Slowly, she lifted one arm and pointed a finger straight at the lens and shouted, ‘This was a horrible joke, Stark. Just you wait. After we’ve walked back home, you’re going to get it!’

There was a brief second of silence where Bucky tried to stifle his snicker in a fist, and then the first chords of  _ Robot Rock _ filled the air. Half-forgotten in one of his coat pockets, Bucky’s Starkphone lit up with an incoming call. He quickly fished it out of his pocket and glanced at the display.

_ Mechanic calling… _

‘It’s Tony!’ He let Natasha know as he swiped up to accept.

‘Tell him to fuck off, then!’ 

Despite his voice sounding tinny through the speakers, Tony still managed to convey a sense of smugness. 'Well, well, well… If it isn't world's mightiest pair of assassins. Robbed of their shiny toys, what are they but pawns in my game?'

Bucky snorted in amusement. 'Drop the villain shtick, Stark. Unless you're prepared to go full Doom cackle, you're never going to sell it.'

Tony made a booing noise. 'Spoilsport. I worked hard on my Magneto impression. My acting coach will be in tears.'

Swift like a viper, Natasha ripped the phone out of his hands and hissed into the receiver, 'If it's tears you want, you can stop acting like a coward and tell me exactly where you are, because I've got plenty of your bones I want to pick.' The threat was uttered so convincingly that Bucky momentarily feared for Tony's bodily integrity, until Natasha's eyes flashed tellingly. She was getting as much mileage out of playing along with this charade as Tony, he realized. Suspicion bloomed at the back of his mind. Hadn't she mentioned that she'd spoken with the engineer before she came to cheer him up?

'But that's not fair, Nat!' Tony whined through the phone, channeling a solid eighty percent of his inner-five-year old. 'Here I am, table reserved at our favourite bistro, invites all sent out, and you want to turn my death into the evening's main event? What am I supposed to do now?'

'Simple,' Natasha replied in a sickeningly sweet tone. 'Since you've so kindly provided us with a location, Bucky and I are going to walk over and there'd better be a free meal waiting for us or your crunchy bones will decorate-'

'Right,' Bucky interjected, growing tired of the constant back and forth. With his metabolism an early meal was always welcome, whether there were ulterior motives involved or not. 'I'm sure he gets the picture. Tony, order me something strong off the drinks menu, will ya?'

'Aye aye, sergeant.' Bucky imagined Tony was saluting him at the other end of the line. 'See you in a minute, Nat.' With a loud click, he hung up on them. 

Natasha rubbed the bridge of her nose, masking the slight upturn of her lips. 'He just doesn't know when to quit. Come on, it's not far.' 

She motioned in the direction of, Bucky presumed, the bistro and started walking at a brisk pace. Obediently, Bucky followed her down the otherwise deserted sidewalk. Half-heartedly hoping that the dinner was nothing more than an attempt to make him feel better, and there wouldn't be another nasty surprise waiting for him. His luck had been tested enough today.

As Natasha had predicted, the walk to the bistro took less than fifteen minutes, but Bucky was relieved to step into the warm environment nonetheless. In spite of the earth warming up due to climate change, the chill of winter hung heavy in the air from where it slithered into the marrow of his bones. He vastly preferred staying indoors whenever the temperature ducked under the freezing point, just to minimize the potential occurrence of panic attacks or dissociative episodes. But with Natasha walking beside him, there was little risk of Bucky waking up in a field in Ohio without a fucking clue of how he got there. She'd tie him to a lamp post before she'd let him escape her loving clutches. 

The bistro Tony had selected was a quaint little hole in the wall with big booths that could seat a party of eight or more if the occupants weren't too overly fond of maintaining their bubble of personal space. Which, admittedly, wasn’t one of Bucky’s strong points, so he hoped that wouldn’t be the case, or he might have to crawl under the table to stave off a panic attack. Fortunately, Tony’d had the good sense to select a booth towards the back, out of view from the large bay window at the front. He waved at them over the back of the booth and a blond head popped up beside him. Steve's relaxed grin immediately put Bucky at ease.

No one else seemed to have arrived yet, he noticed warily, so there could still be a trap waiting to be sprung, as the table was laid for six. With him and Natasha, that left two mystery guests for Tony to throw at them. The billionaire was seated closest to the wall, strategically using Steve’s bulk to shield him from Natasha’s stomping fury. Instead of protecting his scheming partner, however, The Soldier allowed her to slide into the booth across from Tony, drawing a noise of protest from the engineer whose feet were now exposed to a sneak attack from Natasha’s pointy heels. Going by the cry of pain that immediately followed, she’d nailed him good. 

Sharing an amused glance with Steve, Bucky slid into the empty spot next to his best friend and jabbed him in the side with his elbow. ‘You could have stopped him, punk.’

‘I didn’t even know he was doing something that needed to be stopped, jerk.’

Bucky rolled his eyes. Steve was far too trusting for his own good. ‘Sure ya didn’t.’

‘He’s telling the truth,’ Tony piped up, apparently he and Natasha had already called the footsie war to an end, because his voice sounded remarkably pain-free. ‘Tipping the sentinel of truth, justice and the American way off about your evil plans is just bad form. Besides, Steve is terrible at keeping secrets when he knows somebody is going to suffer as a result of them.’

‘And you should be very grateful about that fact,’ Steve replied, quirking an eyebrow. ‘Or we might not have been sitting here quite so peacefully.’

Tony expression sobered and his eyes met Bucky’s guilty ones briefly. ‘How could I forget?’ 

_ Yeah, how could we all? _ Bucky agreed silently, dropping his gaze to study the cutlery. These days, the deaths of Howard and Maria Stark didn’t weigh as hard on his conscience anymore, but that didn’t mean he’d forgotten all about them. The elder Starks still featured in plenty of his nightmares, sometimes even during the day, when Tony said or did something that reminded Bucky too strongly of Howard. Deep inside, he knew Tony was also glad that the guilt wasn’t eating away at him anymore. The genius had helped Bucky conquer too many roadblocks for him to covertly wish for the ex-assassin to continue to live in abject misery. Forgiveness had guided them both through a couple dreadful months and forced them to become better people at the end of it. Or at least, that’s what Bucky liked to think.

Suddenly, a hand landed on his thigh, patting it comfortingly. ‘That was horrible of me to say, Buckaroo. Let’s order dinner before I put my foot in my mouth again.’

Bucky squeezed Tony’s fingers tight in agreement. ‘Let’s.’

A warm feeling of acceptance passed through him as the touch was returned without hesitation. Steve added to it by slinging his arms companionably around them. His large hand rested warmly on Bucky’s metal shoulder. Natasha watched the display with a small smile from her side of the booth.

‘Wow. What’s with all the fuzzy vibes I’m getting over here?’ A new voice cut through the peaceful atmosphere, causing Bucky to press his face into Steve’s shoulder with a badly concealed groan of frustration.  _ Not the damn bird. _ ‘I dressed for dinner, not a therapy session. If I’d known, I’d have just stayed back at the VA.’ 

Going by the teasing lilt of his voice, Sam wasn’t going back to his daytime job anytime soon. The bastard enjoyed ruffling Bucky’s feathers too much to pass up an opportunity to poke fun at him. Bucky would throw himself off a bridge before voluntarily admitting that Sam’s casual treatment of him was a breath of fresh air compared to the caution displayed by the other Avengers. The bird appeared to have a lot of trust in him not fucking up, which made him alright in Bucky’s book, if frequently annoying. Like he’d illustrated just now.

Stubbornly refusing to join the chorus of hellos from the others, he kept his face buried in Steve’s t-shirt. ‘Where are the drinks?’ he muttered crossly against the soft cotton.

‘The waitress is coming right over, I believe,’ a second, soft voice replied from his left, causing his shoulders to instantly regain all the tension the trip to the tailor’s had dissipated.

Bucky took a deep breath and slowly lifted his head. So it had been some kind of set-up, after all. Lucky for Tony, his hand had wisely abandoned his thigh to make for safer waters, because Bucky wasn’t sure he could successfully resist the sudden temptation to give it a hard pinch.

Hovering uncertainty at the end of the booth, Pepper looked a far-cry from the soft, fuzzy version of her he’d witnessed this morning. She’d exchanged her loungewear for a professional long-sleeved blouse and expensive-looking jeans. The azure tone of the cloth made the colour of her eyes pop as she eyed him warily.

She motioned at the empty seat across from him that Sam had slid right over in his bid to cozy up to Natasha. ‘Can I sit here?’ 

Bucky had no idea why she was even asking him for permission. It was a free country. Whether she could have the seat or not had little to do with his desire to have her there. And if he was being completely honest with himself, he did kind of want her to be in a good position to see that he was not all volatile, growly assassin. Perhaps it wouldn’t make up for the fright he’d given her earlier, but he would definitely rest easier knowing that he’d at least tried to make a better impression.

‘O-of course,’ Bucky cringed at the slight stutter in his voice. He could feel Steve’s chest rumbling in silent laughter. Did he sound too eager? ‘Please, have a seat.’ 

His mind raced at a thousand miles a minute as she shot him a quiet ‘thanks’ and slid into the booth. He caught a whiff or her perfume, jasmine, and he had to clamp his mouth shut in order not to comment on it. That would be inappropriate and more than a bit creepy. Silence was good in this case.  _ Silence was golden _ . Now, if he could only manage to make it through the rest of dinner without a major freak-out, maybe Pepper would be relaxed in his presence at the end of it.

The waitress did come over to take their orders right after Pepper installed herself. Most of the team settled on something non-alcoholic because the Avengers were technically still on call and one could never know when a despot like Doom or Mephisto would attack New York. Bucky didn't care either way, since the serum had robbed him of most of the fun alcohol was capable of providing. Surprisingly, Natasha and Pepper both ordered cloyingly sweet cocktails that Tony scrunched his nose up at in disapproval. That only seemed to spur them on though, and soon they were both sipping contently, respectively, on a strawberry daiquiri and a pineapple tequila. Their choice in meals were less disparate than the drinks, with pasta strongly represented. Before long, the team was tucking into their respective plates.

As the minutes crept by and they stuffed their mouths, Bucky couldn't help but glance surreptitiously at the other side of the table. Pepper appeared to be completely absorbed by her plate of pasta diavolo. Every few minutes, she fished a tissue out of her pocket to daintily blow her nose. Frankly, Bucky thought the way she bravely worked her way through the spice was adorable. He was also quite certain that the sentiment would not be appreciated.

After having been so close to her in the workshop, it was disconcerting to be relegated to observing her from a distance, minimal though it was. To Bucky's dismay, the memory of her touch had already begun to fade, partially suppressed as it was by the sharper edge of pain, and it looked like he might not be able to replace it with a newer memory. 

The Soldier laughed bitterly at the back of his mind.  _ Look at you, pining for what we can never have. Familiar ground at last. _ Bucky pushed him back to his dark corner, taking a bite of pasta to stifle the disheartened noise that threatened to spill from his mouth.

With a jolt, he realized that Pepper was now watching him as well through the steam rising from her plate, her expression guarded. He wondered if having the table between them made her feel more secure in his presence, though it would offer her little protection from any enhanced individual. Honestly, she'd been safer standing right next to him that morning, with naught but air between them. The increase in distance did work in his advantage, though, as it kept him from becoming too starstruck. He tried not to think too hard about the fact that she was capable of addling The Soldier's mind as well. Vulnerability was a sore spot for both of them.

Bucky tried to smile reassuringly at her, but it turned out to be more of an awkward grimace with pasta sauce smeared around his lips. Spooked, Pepper sucked in a breath and abruptly choked on a bite of pasta she'd just taken, launching her into a coughing fit. With a pang of guilt, Bucky pushed his glass of regular lemonade towards her to help soothe her throat, but she dismissed his assistance with a wave of her hand. At the other end of the table, Tony was snickering under his breath at the sight.

'Can't handle your spice, Pepperpot?' He asked sweetly, grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

'Asshole,' Pepper shot back between coughs. 

'Here,' Natasha said, her voice significantly more concerned as she slid her daiquiri down the table towards Pepper. 'Sweet trumps spice. A sip of this should wash it down.'

Passively, Bucky watched it being passed down, momentarily fascinated by how the light fractured on the layers of pink as the liquid sloshed within the glass. A formerly plump strawberry drifted by. Distantly, a warning bell went off in Bucky's head. Hadn't Tony mentioned something about strawberries that morning? 

Alarm shot through him, rippling through his brain cells like an electric shock. Before he could stop to think how his actions could be perceived by the others, he extended a hand to snatch the drink from under Pepper's nose. With a high-pitched screech the glass shattered between his metal fingers and he flinched as pink liquid and ice gushed onto the table. Too much strength applied too quickly.

_ You malfunction when your head's not clear _ , The Soldier commented snidely like the big help he was. Bucky ignored him, choosing to watch Pepper's expression shift back and forth between surprise and fear. He fucked up again. Couldn't even behave like a normal human being for one dinner.

'You can't,' he told her, tongue nearly tripping over the words in his haste. The other Avengers were getting to their feet, talking loudly over each other as the smell of something burning filled the air. 

They were afraid he was regressing, that he was going to hurt someone again. From the corner of his eye, he saw Natasha grabbing her purse to retrieve the widow bites she stored within. Steve's hand clamped around his flesh shoulder like a vice, but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that Pepper knew he hadn't been planning on harming a single hair on her head. Frozen in place and half-desperate, he allowed that feeling to fill his entire head until he was convinced she'd be able to read it in his eyes. And she was looking, confused and faintly terrified, but looking. At least she wasn't running or screaming yet.

‘You can’t,’ he repeated weakly, loosening his fist so that shards of glass clattered onto the wood. Steve was pulling at his shoulder now, hoping to get him to move. ‘You’re allergic.’

Pepper looked lost in the mire of her own fear for a long moment, but then she clawed her way back out, eyebrows shooting up as the realization set in. Dimly, Bucky noticed that the campfire smell had disappeared.

‘Strawberries?' she breathed, the smallest figment of relief colouring her voice. 'How do you know I-'

'Oh shit!' Tony cursed loudly, waving around frantically with one arm while trying to pull Steve back with the other. 'It's fine! It's fine! Pep's allergic to strawberries. Buckaroo was trying to do a good thing here, save us a trip to the hospital. He's going about it the funny way, sure, but it's the thought that counts. Right, darling?' He shot his partner a pointed look.

He felt Steve's grip relaxed incrementally. 'That right, Buck?'

'My name is James Buchanan Barnes,' he stated his mantra clearly while he kept his gaze locked with Pepper's, hoping the calmness of his demeanour would somehow transfer to her via an invisible connection. The fear seemed to be seeping out of her, a flush climbing steadily up her neck. 'I am an Avenger, and you used to help me steal cherry pies from Mrs. Waldorff's kitchen window.'

'That one I didn't even know,' Stark muttered, astonished.

Steve breathed an audible sigh of relief and collapsed back down into his seat. He rubbed a hand over his face. 'All clear. For fuck's sake, don't ever scare me like that again.'

‘To be fair,’ Pepper defended him hoarsely, rolling her shoulders to get the tension out and shooting Bucky a tremulously smile, eyes brightened by an emotion he could not name. ‘I don’t believe his goal was to scare a few years of your life. If anything, he was actively trying to add a few to mine.’

Also sinking back into her seat, Natasha rolled her eyes and tossed her unactivated widow bite back into her bag. ‘That’s too sappy for me. Next time, use your words, James, and spare us all the drama.’

‘Yeah, man,’ Sam agreed, soaking up the spilled daiquiri with their paper napkins. ‘I came here to relax and eat pasta, not to get scared within an inch of my life.’

Shrinking into himself, Bucky flushed at the commentary. ‘I’m sorry, that was very impulsive of me.’  _ And incredibly stupid. _

‘Nah,’ Tony said, cuddling up to Steve’s side and running a soothing hand over his stomach. ‘You did us all a service by reacting that quickly. My blood hasn’t pumped that fast in a while. With all the bad guys keeping their superior schemes for the New Year, we’ve grown much too complacent.’

‘And there he goes jinxing us,’ Sam muttered darkly, glaring at the inventor from under his lashes. ‘I ain’t cleaning up your mess when the Wrecking Crew ransacks the Tower next.’

‘Pff. I’d like to see them try.’

‘Not before the Gala, please,’ Pepper lamented, but there was a warmth to her voice. She’d picked up her fork again and was twirling strings of pasta around it. ‘I’d like to limit press conferences to one per week. Plus, I like my holidays nice and quiet.’

You’re in the wrong profession for nice and quiet, Bucky thought, smiling inwardly. Somehow Pepper didn’t seem like the kind of person who’d stick with a job that distressed her for years on end, although the Stark Industries benefits package might be worth all the trouble the Avengers brought to the table. Bucky vastly preferred thinking that she was just too attached to Tony and the wacky family of heroes and ex-spies he’d created for himself. If only because it left him with a little more hope at acceptance into the same world. Selfish, really.

‘Anyway, I’d like to finish my diavolo now,’ the woman in question continued, casually lifting the fork up to her mouth like nothing had disturbed her dinner in the first place. ‘I’ve been invited to a reception at the Metropolitan and the refreshments are almost certainly going to be non-existent.’ 

Murmurs of agreement went up around the table as the rest of the team started to tuck in again. Bucky stared down at his ruined plate forlornly, shards of glass had spilled all over his tagliatelle. He didn’t exactly feel like cutting open his tongue on a nasty surprise. His hand was sticky too from where the daiquiri had seeped between the edges of the metal plates. That would be a pain to clean out later tonight. Well, at least he’d have an activity to occupy himself with when sleep wouldn’t come.

There was a scrape of porcelain on wood and Bucky looked up in puzzlement as Pepper pushed her plate halfway towards him. Wordlessly, she indicated what was left of her meal with her fork.  _ Have some _ . 

Haltingly, he grabbed his own fork and stole a string of pasta. Spice exploded on his tongue, startling a cough out of him and making his eyes water. Pepper’s lips curled up in amusement and Bucky got the sense that she considered them to be even now. They shared the remaining leftovers in companionable silence as the rest of the others droned on in the background.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter, please consider leaving kudos or a comment. <3


	4. Fair Exchange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the scene that launched this fic idea into my brain. I'm incredibly happy to have found this rare pairing and plan on writing more with them in it soon.

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/de/bf/yWOPZYOd_o.jpg)

*********************

_ 3:15 AM. _

Bucky stared at the digital clock on the nightstand until his eyes started to water and the numbers blurred into one red haze. Still, his eyelids refused to grow heavy enough for him to drift off to sleep. Smothering a cry of frustration in his pillow, he blinked the tears away and turned on his other side. The white noise machine was humming away in the corner of his bedroom, but it might as well have been playing metal for how much good it did. After hours of listening, he felt neither calm nor sleepy. Truthfully, he was one step away from giving into the impulse of smashing the machine to bits. Only the fear of Tony taking notice and telling Steve about his enduring insomnia stopped him from actually indulging in the fantasy. Bucky already felt plenty guilty for making them worry about his well-being during daylight hours and he sort of felt like he’d filled today’s quota of unpleasant events caused directly by his issues.

By stroke of luck the dinner had ended on a positive note, but he knew not to tempt fate too often. Life as an Avenger was unpredictable and ever-changing, whatever progress he’d made towards becoming friends with Pepper (and conceivably more if he was allowed to dream) could be gone by the next time they met. Good, old James Buchanan Barnes would have been striking the iron while it was still hot. He’d have asked Pepper out for a date by now, perhaps offering himself as an escort to the Gala. In the meantime Bucky was rapidly getting accustomed to feeling inadequate when comparing himself to the man he used to be. It was infuriating how a shadow that had been dead for seventy years could get the better of him. 

When the incessant white noise started to grate on his mind, he flipped to his back and blinked up at the ceiling of his bedroom. As expected, the smooth stretch of gray metal did nothing to ease his agitated thoughts. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, drawing out the moment for as long as possible. His lungs burned but the cogs in his brain refused to grind to a stop, too busy filtering through the day. Grudgingly, Bucky closed his eyes and let the events of the last few hours play out against the back of his eyelids. 

After pasta and dessert, the team had gone their separate ways. Pepper had been whisked away in a sleek black Mercedes to prepare for her reception at the MET while Natasha and Sam had walked off hand in hand to spend the night at the latter’s apartment. That left Bucky with the Avengers’ most popular couple. 

Luckily, Tony had the decency to offer him a ride back to the Tower in yet another Audi of his - how many fucking colours of the exact same car model did one guy need? - so he wouldn’t have to return on foot. As they’d cruised through the New York traffic, Steve had been assessing him through the rearview mirror, the tense set of his jaw betraying just how much he wished to question Bucky on what had transpired back at the restaurant. But Steve had bit his tongue, perhaps recognizing that hounding him any further would be pointless, and cranked up the music to drown out the uneasy atmosphere.

Once back at the Tower, Bucky had taken the elevator straight up to his private apartment and spent a solid three hours scraping daiquiri residue from the crevices of his arm. He’d managed to get rid of everything but a faint strawberry smell. It was going to have to do, he’d decided. He was exhausted and more than ready for the day to be over and done with. So he’d crawled into bed like a worn-out grandpa and just laid there until the lingering presence of his insomnia became undeniable. And that’s how he arrived at hosting his own little pity party in bed.

He glanced at the clock again. 3:27AM.

_ Fuck it. _

Swinging his legs out of bed, Bucky allowed himself one moment to enjoy the feeling of the plush carpet tickling between his toes before he slipped on a pair of slippers. JARVIS switched off the floor-heating on the common levels after one o’clock to conserve energy and to force the inhabitants of the Tower into a respectable sleeping schedule. So far, Operation Cold Footsies had yet to work on either Bucky or Tony. Apparently, they were both made out of stern enough stuff to successfully withstand the mothering attempts of an all-seeing AI.

Cold feet aside, JARVIS’s stance against any nighttime activity that didn’t involve a bed also meant he patently refused to activate the lights in the hallway when Bucky took to wandering them. Once again, the serum’s enhanced eyesight came in handy, though the ex-assassin didn’t doubt that he could navigate the Tower’s upper levels blindly by now. He’d certainly made the trek up the deserted stairwell enough times.

His footsteps echoed between the concrete walls as he made his way to the common floor. Sometimes, when he felt more Soldier than Bucky, he made a game out of moving soundlessly between the floors, sneaking from door to door and breaking into apartments under the paper thin pretense of ‘security checks’. But tonight he had little patience for playing games against himself. He’d much rather bunk down on the couch with a cup of Bruce’s expensive tea.

Stifling a yawn, Bucky pushed open the stairwell door leading to the common floor and slipped inside the familiar environment of plush carpet, light blue walls and abstract art. The elevator bay was quiet, but Bucky sensitive ears picked up the soft humming of electronics off to the far right by the kitchen. His feet carried him there on automatic pilot as he rubbed his aching eyes. It appeared the proximity of a comfy couch did a lot towards jump-starting his body’s desire to catch some shut-eye. This distraction was probably why he didn’t notice there was a light on in the kitchen until he was literally standing by the central island.

The fridge at the opposite side of the island was wide-open, obscuring the figure of another late-night wanderer. Bucky could hear them rummaging around in there, plastic scraping against glass as they moved containers from one shelf to the other. Were they reorganizing? Who the fuck did that at three-thirty in the morning?

‘I do hope you’re not displacing Barton’s collection of cheese dips, because he goes ballistic when he can’t find them after a mission,’ he commented dryly, watching in amusement as the fridge raider jerked back with a cry of surprise. They crashed into the door, causing all the glass jars stored there to clatter noisily. The common floor was right under the penthouse that Tony and Steve shared, but there was little chance that they’d hear the noise at the other side of the reinforced ceiling and walls.

Bucky let out a low laugh as the raider struggled to find their balance against the swaying door. A pale manicured hand emerged from behind the door to stop it from moving before a rumpled looking Pepper poked her head out. Involuntarily, his breath hitched the unexpected but very welcome sight of the usually composed CEO with tousled bed hair. If he’d thought she’d looked approachable that morning, then he’d been dead wrong. This was the real Pepper, all adorably dishevelled in soft pajamas and Iron Man-slippers, as au naturel as she could get with clothes on. 

In response, a hot flicker of flame sprung to life at the pit of Bucky’s belly and he was overcome with the dual urge of snuggling with her and kissing her senseless. He flushed at the thought of acting out either of those scenarios and ducked his head in hopes she wouldn’t notice the red hue of his cheeks in the dim light of the kitchen. His Christmas-themed socks reminded him exactly what kind of state he himself was in: wrinkled shirt, too-loose sleeping pants, unfashionable socks. Ladies and gentlemen, presenting James Buchanan Barnes, a true catch! 

Gingerly, he snuck a glance at Pepper’s reaction from under his eyelashes. Was it his imagination of were her cheeks tinted slightly darker as well? It was hard to imagine she could be just as self-conscious about the state of dress in which she’d stumbled into him. Both their feet shuffled awkwardly over the tile floor.

‘That was not funny,’ she said eventually and slammed the door shut. She brandished a jar of pickles at him. The liquid sloshed loudly inside. ‘You nearly made me drop these.’

Bemused at the gesture, Bucky cracked a smile. ‘It was only a tiny warning. You must have something on your conscience to be that jumpy.’

‘Eh,’ Pepper shrugged as she went to open the jar above the sink. She detached the lid with one twist of her wrist and dumped some of the brine into the drain. ‘My secrets are largely mundane or not a secret at all. In comparison to the exciting superhero existence you’re used to living, I don’t get jumped by baddies on a regular basis, so I startle a lot easier than you.’

Unbidden, a vision came to Bucky of her walking down a dark street, purse clutched firmly in hand, as a dark figure crept up behind her. His trigger finger twitched at his side with the urge to take out the imaginary threat. Happy Hogan had better never let her from his sight while he was on duty. Maybe Bucky needed to have a few words with him. Or would that be too much too soon? The idea of Pepper falling victim to an invisible threat did remind Bucky of the air he needed to clear first. The scene at the restaurant was still fresh in his mind.

‘You did a good job of keeping your cool earlier,’ he offered quietly, scratching the back of his neck with his metal hand. The cold texture served to chase away the fatigue clawing at his thoughts. ‘I haven’t actually apologised for scaring you.’

Pepper paused her pouring to watch him, some of the brine spilled onto her fingers. ‘Wasn’t being allowed to eat half of my remaining pasta an obvious enough peace offering to you, James?’

He remembered the burn of the spice all too well. ‘Honestly, that first bite didn’t feel a lot like forgiveness. I thought it was going to burn my tongue right off. I’m a forties boy; we used to boil everything until it came out tasting bland or flavourless.’

A giggle escaped Pepper’s lips, immediately lightening the atmosphere and Bucky found himself relaxing against his better judgement. ‘You’ll grow used to the spice. Personally, I enjoy a bit of fire in my food,’ she told him with a deliberately slow wink, mischief colouring her tone. 

The subtext packed into that statement was tantalising to say the least, and Bucky had to firmly remind himself that this was neither the place nor time to make his attraction obvious, though he couldn't help but think back to the insider knowledge that Tony had shared yesterday. According to the resident genius, his best friend had a hankering for a dash of kink in her sex life. Was that the spice she was referring to - because he'd really like it to be - or was he reading far too much into it? His mind boggled.

'Since you're so knowledgeable about spice, you could point me in the direction of some good places to eat it,' he finally settled on a more-or-less safe reply, hoping that wasn't being too bold. 'I've been dying to get out of the Tower without running the risk of Steve stealing the food from under my nose.'

Pepper hummed pensively, fishing a pickle from the jar and crunching it between her teeth. Her gaze languidly wandered up and down his body, lingering on the flat muscle of his stomach. He straightened ever so slightly to accommodate her, a whisper of the old Barnes confidence edging him on. The shirt might not be very flattering, but who was he to deny a lady a look or two? 

She cocked an eyebrow and licked a trace of brine from her lips. 'You know what? If you can live with me stealing from your plate, then you might just have signed yourself up for a guided tour of the spiciest food New York has to offer. Let's see if we can satisfy that super soldier appetite of yours.'

Okay, Bucky swallowed heavily, he wasn't imagining her interest. She was definitely flirting, right?

'When do we start?' He tried to keep his voice level, but going by her gradually widening grin he was failing spectacularly.

'Not so fast,' she said teasingly. 'My guided tours are subject to an extensive vetting procedure.' 

Retrieving the pickle jar from the sink and placing it in the middle of the kitchen island that separated them, Pepper motioned for him to take a seat across from her as she perched herself on a stool. Bucky had never moved swifter in his life, though he felt kind of ungainly on the delicate furniture. 

His heart beat like a drum as he watched her munch happily on another pickle. When she caught him watching her mouth, she pushed the jar in his direction. Sharing food appeared to be a pet peeve of hers. While he chewed through his own pickle, he wondered if she'd ever had to do so out of necessity or if she was simply that charitable. For her, he hoped it was the latter. His memories of the Great Depression were a mosaic of hunger, misery and the constant fear of returning home to find Steve had suddenly succumbed to one of his myriad conditions. He'd never wish poverty on anyone.

Eventually, Pepper leaned forward on her elbows and her gaze turned speculative. 'So, I have to admit you have me at a disadvantage, James. Apparently, Tony has seen it fit to fill you in on all my secrets while I'm being left completely in the dark.'

Bucky felt his cheeks flush. 'Not all your secrets,' he amended. 'He simply let it drop that you're allergic to strawberries. Nothing more.'

'U-huh, sure.' The scepticism nearly dripped from her voice. 'I'm aware Tony feels the constant need to be my greatest cheerleader, but you haven't got to defend his tendency to blather on about personal details. I know for a fact that his brain-to-mouth filter is practically nonexistent after an engineering binge, so there has to be more.'

Again, Bucky's mind seized the opening to bombard him with the delectable images Tony's gossip had elicited, now heightened by the appearance of her mischief-filled smile. Arousal flared in his belly. This was getting troublesome. 

He shook his head, both to clear it and deny her statement. 'Strawberries,' he reiterated, starting to sweat a bit.

'I never suspected a fearsome assassin to be this bad of a liar,' Pepper said with narrowed eyes. 'But I'm willing to drop the issue in return for proper compensation.'

By now, Bucky was feeling pretty good about continuing this conversation without a horrible incident occurring, so he nodded his assent. 'I'm up for whatever.'

Pepper smiled slowly. 'I want one secret of yours in return for every one of mine.'

Bucky's train of thoughts careened to a halt as he was hit by all the unpleasant paths that kind of transaction could take. What kind of secrets was she after? His list of successful assassinations? How he had turned little girls into ruthless killing machines? The best way to take out a man with a spoon? The list of his secrets had spinned out of control a couple of decennia ago.

Pepper seemed to sense his burgeoning panic. 'Let me rephrase that. I'm not after your big government-protected secrets. God knows I have enough of a headache without knowing them. I just want a few fun facts about yourself, like in twenty questions.'

'Twenty questions?' He looked at her blankly. Was that a new interrogation method he hadn't been briefed on?

Pepper's expression turned incredulous. 'Don't tell me Tony hasn't added it to your team building regimen yet? It's a drinking game originally, but I prefer to see it as an icebreaker. We each ask a personal question in turn, and the other has to answer truthfully or fulfill a penalty.'

Bucky frowned, thinking her proposal over. The way she put it, he actually had a choice to not answer her if he didn't quite feel comfortable divulging the truth. 

'That sounds...fair,' he said, hesitant. 'What kind of penalty do you have in mind?'

Pepper pursed her lips. 'Since we're doing the food tour, I'd say we pay one of the other's courses for each unanswered question?'

'You're probably going to make me go bankrupt by the end of this 'twenty questions',' he told her wryly, offering his hand for a shake. 'But I'm game.'

Pepper shook his hand without hesitation, her skin blessedly warm against the cool metal. 'Deal. I will go easy on you because it's your first time. Do you have any allergies?'

He hadn't quite expected her to launch straight into it, but he luckily didn't need all his brain cells working in order to answer her questions. 'Not at the moment. Same as Steve, the serum took most medical concerns away. I can't recall if I had any back in the day. What about you? Anything beside strawberries I should watch out for?'

'Nickel. It's a pain to find cheap jewellery that won't cause me to have a reaction,' she replied easily, treating herself to another pickle. 'Though I have to mention that Tony is operating on faulty intel. Honestly, my allergy to strawberries is negligible. I experience some discomfort after eating them, but nothing that would land me in the hospital.'

'Good to know. That will spare me from breaking any more glass.'

'I hear it's good luck.'

'Only if you're superstitious. Are you?' Bucky was proud of himself for stumbling into a second question so fluidly.

Pepper’s expression turned thoughtful. 'Do I cross the street in order not to have to walk under a ladder? Do I panic when I see a black cat? Only on the worst of days.'

'And what are those like?' Bucky asked eagerly. He felt like he was getting the hang of this twenty questions game.

He got a laugh in reply as Pepper wagged a finger. 'Now you're getting greedy, mister. I get to ask a question first.’

‘Right.’ Bucky bit his lip, hoping the answer would come as easy as with the last one.

‘Since you’re steering us towards self-care, what’s your favourite activity in the gym? I know from Tony’s extensive surveillance that you and Steve spend an inordinate amount of time down there maintaining the super soldier physique.’

Stealing another pickle, Bucky mentally flipped through his last few visits to the Tower's gym, trying to recall if there was a certain type of equipment he gravitated towards. His visits mostly followed a strict training regimen (fundamentally unchanged from his time as The Soldier, only with less physical punishment when he failed a test). Occasionally, he'd request Steve or Natasha to step into the ring with him for a few rounds, but even that he found hard to classify as enjoyment. Now that he was thinking about it, he might not have a favourite activity. 

When he told her as much, Pepper shook her head decidedly. 'There has to be something at the gym you do just for fun, instead of feeling obligated to.'

He scratched his chin, pondering. 'I guess I feel more satisfied after a sparring match as opposed to completing a series of exercises,' he admitted eventually. 'Those can get pretty boring when you have a bionic arm at your disposal.'

'I'll take your word for it.' Pepper's gaze briefly drifted downwards and came to rest on the parts of his arm that rested on the table. Her expression turned solemn as she no doubt recalled what other deeds the arm had facilitated. Hell, he didn't even know if Tony had told her about his parents' death, though it seemed unlikely that he hadn't. After the infamous 'palladium incident,’ the two of them had drastically cut back on keeping secrets from the other. Perhaps he should take it as a good sign that there was no open revulsion on her face. If anything, Pepper seemed a little curious… 

Resisting the instinct to keep the arm as far away from her as humanly possible, Bucky stretched it lightly across the countertop and flexed his fingers invitingly. 

'Do you want to touch it?' he asked gently. Pepper's eyes - a lovely blue chrome in the dimness of their surroundings - immediately flicked up to meet his. Her lips pressed together nervously.

'Is that your next question?' she returned, struggling to make her voice sound humourous. 

Careful not to spook her, Bucky kept their gazes interlocked as he reached out and lightly touched the tips of his fingers to the back of her folded hands. 'If you want it to be.'

She didn't flinch, but neither did she relax into his touch. Curiosity and apprehension warred for prominence on her face as she looked down to their barely-touching hands. Whatever she saw there, Bucky couldn't rightly tell. 

'Yes,' she answered his question quietly, slowly unfolding her hands like she was afraid he'd retract the offer if she moved in to abruptly. 

Something hot and unbearably sweet soared in Bucky's chest as her fingertips rose up to press against his. The sensors in his hand weren't sensitive enough to pick up the texture of her skin, but they could register the heat she emitted. They stayed like that for a long moment, frozen in the first contact, before Pepper dared to add her other hand to the mix, fingers dancing across the back of his hand and wrist. She seemed intrigued by the grooves where the plates met, tracing the pattern to the palm of his hand with a look of utter concentration.

The care with which she treated his bionic limb, delicately turning it this way and that, was almost too much. Bucky swallowed heavily to dislodge the lump forming in his throat.

'Does it hurt?' At first, he barely registered she'd spoken.

Bucky briefly considered lying and telling her that he never felt as much of a twinge of pain from the arm, but that would be unfair. Honesty had brought him this far, let's see where else it could lead him. 

'If I don't go in for maintenance regularly, then yeah,' he explained, expanding and refolding the plates around his lower arm to show her the mechanism hidden underneath. 'Mostly it's hard on my spine and shoulder tissue. My shoulder can get stiff after a mission. But Tony's promised me the new arm will eliminate that issue, so I'll grin and bear it until that's ready.'

Pepper nodded in understanding. 'I've seen the plans and it looks to be quite something, all black and gold. I'd call it a rockstar colour palette.' 

'Princess Shuri suggested those colours, apparently they're very 'in' at the moment.' Bucky didn't dare to think ahead to a time those colours wouldn't be in fashion anymore. Purple and lime green wasn’t his idea of camouflage.

Pepper's smile was snatched away by a long yawn, she tried to stifle against her shoulder. 'She- she's got good taste.'

'That she has.' His eyes slid over to the digital clock as she yawned again. 4:21AM. Odd that she should still be up at this hour. 'Say, that museum reception must have been a wild party if they kept you up this late?’

Pepper shook her head with an air of despair and let go of his hand to reclaim the abandoned pickle jar. Bucky immediately found himself missing her warmth, but he suppressed the urge to chase after her. 

‘Nuh-uh. I spend most of the night trying to get retired millionaires to invest their money in Stark Industries projects. Portfolio enrichment doesn’t make for lively conversation, believe me. Boredom makes me restless, so I needed to work some of my energy off first.’ She fished a large pickle out of the jar. ‘Plus, I was starving. I swear half of the canapés were made out of sawdust.’

That made sense. ‘Then I’m sorry I so rudely interrupted your scavenger hunt for food,’ Bucky teased, cocking his head to the side with a grin. Pepper stuck out her tongue in response before popping the pickle inside her mouth. He had to bit back a laugh.

‘This game is also keeping you up way past your appointed CEO-bedtime,’ he continued, motioning at the hour, ‘And I can’t have Tony blame me for turning you into an insomniac, so let’s call it quits for the night, yeah?’

Pepper’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Only if I get one last question.’

‘Shoot.’ Bucky shrugged. What could it hurt? He already felt a bit like he was walking on air after the way she’d held his hand, concern burning behind her questions.

‘Why aren’t  _ you _ asleep in bed right now?’

For the first time since they’d started this back-and-forth, Bucky found himself hesitating before delivering his answer. ‘Do you want the easy or the complicated answer?’

‘I’ll pay for the drinks at our first tour stop if you give me both,’ Pepper offered in exchange. ‘I know just the place.’

Bucky let out a slow breath, gathering some courage. ‘Okay, fair deal. Easy answer: I’m a seasoned insomniac.’ He ticked the answer off on a finger, bracing himself to rush through the second part. ‘Complicated answer, and don’t tell Tony this, but I haven’t been able to sleep for more than three hours at a time in months. When I’m not experiencing nightmares, the white noise machine only grates on my nerves and the silence’s even worse. In short, I’m probably out of my mind right now thanks to sleep-deprivation, as illustrated by this silly game I’ve signed myself up for.’ He gestured between the two of them, trying not to read too much into the tiny knot that was building between Pepper’s brows as she frowned.

‘And why exactly can’t I tell Tony about this?’ she asked, perturbed.

‘Because he’ll tell Steve and then all bets are off.’

She gave a slow nod. ‘O-kay. I’ll make sure Steve doesn’t hear a single whisper about your sleeping habits.’ The shifty look on her face made Bucky suspect that she was already busy thinking up a plan that would allow her to speak to Tony about this without alerting Steve. He should have made her swear it on the jar of pickles or something, he realized belatedly. 

‘I’m going to regret telling you this, aren’t I?’ he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face in exhaustion. 

‘Possibly,’ Pepper said, tone optimistic, as she got up from the chair and scooped up her precious jar. ‘Anyway, I think I’m going to bed now. I enjoyed our little game, James. I’ll try to come up with more questions for if we ever play again.’

Bucky looked up just in time to see her dart out of the kitchen while throwing a wink in his direction. Uneasiness and self-satisfaction battled for prominence in the pit of his stomach.

‘Me too,’ he told the empty kitchen, burying his face into his folded arms. He really was in way over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like always, every kudo and comment is appreciated. <3


	5. It needs to be said

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're about halfway into the fic, which feels kind of surreal... 
> 
> A little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff... That's what all of this is about. :)

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/e7/1a/GZpwkGwN_o.jpg)

*********************

The lights of the dance hall were bright and merry just like Bucky remembered them, twinkling like miniature stars all around the couples twirling around the dance floor. His girl swayed softly to the sweet melody of the music, the copper of her hair turning into burnished gold under the light. His mouth went dry at the sight of her broad smile as he pulled her closer to him, fitting their bodies together in a manner that was perhaps too intimate for the dance they were performing. Yet, she followed without protest, pressing closer until all their pieces fit together.  _ Except for one _ . 

Heart racing in his throat, he leaned down.

‘-uk? Buck?’ A low voice penetrated the veil of music, drowning out the other dancers and his girl’s sweet laughter. Stubbornly, Bucky tried to focus on the sequence of the dance steps , but they suddenly had become very fuzzy, like that one drink too many was catching up with him. Just when he seemed to get back in the groove, a hand clasped his shoulder.

Bucky jerked awake with a gasp, pushing the foreign touch away with all his might. There was a low curse and the sound of a body crashing into wood and stone. The sweet anticipation of the kiss was abruptly replaced by the hot rush of blood in his ears as he attempted to take another swing, half-asleep. This time, his fist met immediate resistance.

‘Fucking hell!’ the voice from before practically shouted in his face, more than a bit panicked. ‘Wake up! It’s me, Buck.’

Having lost his momentum, Bucky floundered. As his synapses began to fire correctly, he found that the voice did sound awfully familiar. Though he remembered it belonging to a punk that would have stood no chance against a metal fist. Confused, Bucky blinked the sleep from his eyes until Steve’s flushed face came into focus. Oh right, he was bigger now. He relaxed his arm, allowing his friend to push it down entirely.

‘Language,’ he slurred as an afterthought and he let himself be pushed back into a chair. He grunted as his lower back hit the hard edge of the kitchen isle. The sharp stab of pain banished some of the sleep from his brain. 

‘Don’t you “language” me.’ Steve was staring down at him, his jaw tensed up in what could either be anger or concern. Bucky wasn’t awake enough to be able to read his expression yet. ‘Did you fall asleep here last night or were you just taking an extra morning nap?’

Frowning with the effort of concentration, Bucky glanced around them at the designer cabinets of the common room kitchen and the empty row of chairs at the other side of the kitchen isle. His girl -  _ no _ , the fuming shadow at the back of his brain snapped violently, _ Pepper _ \- had sat there, he remembered groggily, holding his hand and asking questions all pertinently. Warmth spread through his cheeks at the recovered memory.

Steve tapped his shoulder impatiently to catch his attention. ‘Well?’

_ Right.  _ Telling Steve that he’d fallen asleep at the kitchen island would be a spectacularly bad idea, especially since the entire purpose of swearing Pepper to secrecy had been to conceal his rampant insomnia from Steve. Yet, by the way Steve was eyeing him with more than an inkling of suspicion in those baby blues of his, it was obvious that outright lying was not the course to pursue in this instance. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to hide the underlying problem by omission.

‘I must have drifted off,’ he admitted slowly, leaning back against the counter in an attempt to appear casual. He’d better not mention at which exact hour that had happened and how long he’d been awake for beforehand. It did not sit well with Bucky how he was negotiating their conversation like it was an interrogation. The brevity of his reply was telling.

Evidently, Steve didn’t like the sound of it either, mulling his answer over far too long for comfort. ‘Guess I should be glad you got some sleep at least,’ he settled on eventually, dragging out another chair to sit on. Bucky’s heart thudded once painfully. Steve apparently knew a great deal more about the mess that was his sleep schedule than he’d let on before. Or, perhaps he was simply reacting to the fact that he’d found him stranded in the kitchen two mornings in a row. In any case, it seemed the jig was soon to be up.

Steve’s gaze was sharp as he looked him up and down, taking in the rumpled state of his clothes and the bruising under his eyes. He took a deep breath as if to calm himself before continuing: ‘You know what’s been really bothering me?’

Bucky lowered his gaze to the table and shook his head. 

‘That I’m apparently a blind idiot,’ Steve’s tone turned bitter; one hand clenching into a fist on the countertop. ‘Because I had no idea what was going on right under my nose until Pepper left a note on our door this morning. I've been a horrible friend.' 

He sounded so lost that Bucky couldn't help but shrink in shame at the pain contained in his words. Never in a hundred years did he want to hurt his best friend more than he'd already done by coming back a changed man, that's why he started keeping his problems a secret in the first place. But perhaps he'd unconsciously been hurting Steve more by doing so. Bucky groaned inwardly. Why could life never be as simple as a game of twenty questions?

'Listen,' he started, voice wavering under his mounting sense of guilt. He couldn't predict if his words were going to be of any comfort, but he had to try. 'I'm a grown man, Stevie, a man who's been repeatedly conditioned to not give a damn about his own wellbeing. Consequently, I've grown very adept at masking the habits I want no one else to notice. When you say that you were oblivious, that's not because you're a bad friend, it's because I've been doing my best to keep my problems as far away from you as possible. You have a hard enough life as it is, I didn't want to burden you any further.'

For a brief moment, Steve's nostrils flared in anger and Bucky was genuinely afraid that the other would try to deck him, but then he closed his eyes and visibly collected himself. His shoulders slumped as he emptied his lungs in one long exhale; a technique he must have picked up from Bruce.

When he opened his eyes again, the sparks of anger were still there but banked for the moment. 'You can't always be the martyr in this Tower,' he choked out, rubbing a hand across his face as he shook his head tiredly. 'I've told you before, there's no need to hide behind platitudes or bad excuses, my help is never conditional. Neither is Tony's or Natasha's for that matter. We're here for you whenever you need us to help you face the dark. You're our family even if somebody happened to mess with your head.’

'I know,' Bucky said simply. He'd heard that promise from him many times before, but his brain remained slow to absorb it, still too caught up in a past life where care and love had been foreign concepts. In an old ritual of comfort, he stretched out a hand to clasp Steve's shoulder, who leaned immediately into the touch. 'I can't promise you it will get better, but will you believe me when I say I'm working on it?'

Steve considered him for a long moment before grasping his hand in his and squeezing it gently. 'I'm willing to. And I guess you have to be making progress if you finally got comfortable enough to sit down with Pepper. Seems like you're jumping in headfirst, huh?'

'It was more of a stumble, really,' Bucky confessed, cheeks warming slightly. 'Turns out, she's rather easy to talk to.'

Steve's expression turned thoughtful. 'Maybe the two of us should work on that too, talking, I mean.'

'Couldn't hurt.' Bucky couldn't say he was wild about the prospect of sharing the darker parts of his brain with Steve, who'd always been light and good, but he also couldn't deny the suggestion had its merits. Who knew, perhaps Steve would be able to give him some new insight into his evolving insomniac habits as a fellow super soldier. If not, it might just feel good to get some of the guilt and hurt off his chest with someone who shared similar experiences that a professional couldn't provide.

He gave another nod. 'Let's try it.'

Steve smiled grimly. 'Deal, but not now. Need to clear my head first. Want to go for a run?' 

That wasn't such a bad idea. Bucky could feel all the places where his muscles had cramped up during his impromptu kitchen sleepover. They were practically screaming at him to stretch them out.

'Sure,' he agreed, wincing as his knees made a cracking sound when he got up from the chair. 'The old haunts again?' After his initial recovery from deprograming, the two of them had jogged through every street imaginable in Brooklyn. Bucky often picked that route when he needed to ground himself. Today seemed ideal for some grounding.

Steve, however, got a funny look on his face. 'Actually,' he said slowly. 'I've received orders to take you through Central Park this morning.' He rummaged through his trouser pocket and fished out a yellow sticky note, holding it out for Bucky to take.

_ Eight o’clock, the pancake house south of Central Park. I owe you drinks. Love, Pepper. _

The crisply written letters would have been sufficient for Bucky to determine the sender of the note, but it pleased him that Pepper had taken the extra time to make her involvement explicit. He remembered Steve mentioning that she'd attached a message to his door, but there was no mention of his sleeping problems or location on this one, so she must have left a separate one addressed to Steve. 

A part of him was prepared to get offended at how easily she'd broken her promise not to tell on him, but another part recognized it had been the right choice to make. Didn't this prove she honestly cared for him? He should be glad that she was willing to look out for him like this, but at the same time he couldn't help but feel like she was treating him more like a concerned friend than a love interest. And that bothered him to no end, unsurprisingly. For every part of his brain he managed to lighten up, another seemed to become more of a mess. He'd really did need a run to untangle the complicated knot of emotion in his chest.

T he gravel of the footpath crunched underfoot as the two soldiers completed one circuit of Central Park after the other. While the sun rose steadily over the horizon, their breath turning to little white clouds in the frigid morning air. Not many people were out and about yet, either resting in their warm beds or already occupied with work, but there were more than enough passersby who stared at the two of them. Bucky rolled his eyes as they passed by a staggering twenty-something, clearly on his way back from a night out on the town. He was so busy gawking at them that he spilled the contents of his beer can all down the font of his shirt.

‘Close your mouth!’ Bucky sniped gleefully as they passed him by, eliciting a snicker from Steve, who was enjoying this kind of attention way too much in his opinion. Yet another sign that Tony was dangerously rubbing off on him in more than one sense. At least his friend seemed to be cheering up. The first half-hour of the run, their ‘breakfast’ conversation had pressed on their collective shoulders like a heavy blanket, but they’d shrugged it off with every ragged exhale, every twitch of muscle.

Although the physical exertion was doing wonders for his mood, Bucky had to admit that a morning run was probably the most public of the sports activities that the Avengers engaged in. Normally, he liked to keep his head down as much as possible while venturing outside of the Tower. With seventy years of rigorous stealth and undercover training drilled into his brain, he vastly preferred to stay out of sight of the regular New Yorker. Steve, on the other hand, wasn’t particularly good at pretending to be normal. If Bucky had been feeling less charitable, he’d call him a show-off, but that would be unfair towards the amount of joy Steve got out of driving his body to its limits. Sometimes, when Bucky studied his friend from under his lashes, he’d catch a flash of a frailer man in his wonder-filled eyes. Bucky didn’t remember that version of Steve as well as he’d like, but it comforted him that the other hadn’t forgotten his roots; it kept him humble under the bright light of celebrity. That did not mean that Bucky saw himself following a similar trajectory in front of the cameras, however. 

The first time The Soldier had surreptitiously emerged to give the other Avengers a piece of his mind about the ‘unsafe practice’ of moving so visibly through the city center, Natasha had slung an arm around his shoulders in a show of camaraderie and explained to him that it was important for the public to see their heroes live their daily lives like the rest of the world. In short, it humanized the team and, apparently, being ever-present in the public eye also caused less harmful rumours about the Avengers’ readiness to circulate. During the weeks that followed that discussion, he’d discovered that the PR strategy kept inquiries about his own state of mental health to a minimum, which was always a plus. Did that little fact stop him from being uneasy in front of the press? No, but it did help him bear the clumsy admiration of hungover frat boys at seven-thirty in the morning.

In front of him, Steve audibly snorted as another disheveled teen rose up from the bushes to send a jaunty salute their way. With the wrong hand, Bucky noted, but he bit his tongue as Steve replied with his own correct salute.

‘I swear he’s here every Friday morning,’ the younger soldier sighed. ‘Doesn’t he have anything better to do than lie in wait for me?’

‘Maybe he’s a Shield agent,’ Bucky suggested as a joke.

Steve turned to look over his shoulder, eyes wide in contemplation. ‘Huh.’

‘Eyes forward!’ Bucky said sharply as he nearly veered off the path towards a duck pond. ‘He’s probably here to monitor me, anyway.’ Fury and Bucky shared a healthy dose of mistrust towards the other’s motives and past actions, so it wouldn’t surprise the ex-assassin in the slightest if he had more than a few eyes pointed in his direction at all times. The look of consternation on his friend’s face told him exactly what Steve thought of that treatment.

‘By the way,’ Bucky continued, a teasing lilt to his voice. ‘Don’t  _ you _ have better things to do than run circles in the park? Like say, bring your best guy breakfast in bed?’ The rush of blood to Steve’s cheeks was one-hundred percent not caused by overexertion. He ducked his head, but Bucky could see the flushed skin stretch all the way down his neck and shoulders. Tony must love that.

Sensing an opportunity to confront his best friend with his partner’s poorly disguised matchmaking, Bucky happily pushed the advantage: ‘What? Not so eager to gossip about your own love life instead of mine? I thought you and Tony were more than happy to dish out relationship advice?’

If possible, Steve’s blush turned darker as his discomfort increased. ‘Tony and I,’ he tried to defend himself haltingly, ‘Have discussed most of what occurred in the workshop, mainly because he wanted to get my perspective on how to avoid triggers in the future. However, you are your own man and I have zero desire to be kept up-to-date with every intimate detail of your love life and I’ve told Tony so.  _ Repeatedly _ .’

‘But that hasn’t stopped him,’ Bucky deduced.

Steve released a long-suffering sigh. ‘Not...at...all.’

Honestly, Bucky was willing to leave it at that. Tormenting Steve wouldn’t curb Tony’s enthusiasm for putting his overly curious nose into Bucky’s business, it would only egg him on. (Though a Soldier-shaped part of him did feel a sick sense of satisfaction at having his revenge for a year’s worth of unashamed flirting and groping in his general vicinity. Take that, Stevie.) 

‘Tell Tony that for every piece of gossip about Pepper and I that he shares with you, he’s automatically agreeing to you giving me access to one of his toys. That ought to dissuade him.’

The reply he got from Steve was a laugh that sounded so hollow that he nearly stopped running all together. Shooting his friend a look of alarm, he was surprised to see that Steve’s brow was one big knot of consternation. It seemed like the rush of air hadn’t succeeded at clearing away all the troubles that had been weighing him down. Or, as Bucky feared, others had simply replaced the old ones.

‘What thoughts are rattling around in that head of yours, punk?’ He asked, feeling the stress seep back into his shoulders. 

With a grimace, Steve slowed his pace, forcing Bucky to adjust his speed as well. ’Honest to God, I’m the one who’s worrying his ass off, Buck. About the sleep-deprivation,’ he clarified, voice low. ‘It seems to worsen your dissociation. I saw your eyes this morning, you’d forgotten what I looked like. It was like Azzano all over. Is that really the state of mind you want to enter a relationship with?’

And there it was: the very insecurity that had been ghosting through Bucky’s mind since Tony had started this matchmaking business - that was only yesterday, God, it felt longer. It was just like Steve to direct his gaze to the past when doubt set in. For his friend, the memory of James Buchanan Barnes and the enduring presence of the Winter Soldier were vivid indicators of what kind of baggage Bucky would bring into a relationship. For Bucky, one was but a faded ghost and the other an ever-present companion, who mostly made himself known through snide remarks whenever Bucky refused to let him emerge from the confines of their brain. Sure, he could spell trouble for them in the future, but he hadn’t caught The Soldier feeling much more than irritation towards him socializing with Pepper. He had to trust that the man wasn’t planning some nefarious deed in the shadowy recesses of their shared consciousness. 

Suddenly, Bucky realized how easy it would have been to let his insecurities drag him under. If last night hadn’t given him a glimmer of hope, he would probably have been ready to bury the hatchet and accept his lonely destiny. The small signs of affection Pepper had thrown his way had taken root inside him, however, and he knew he’d never be able to overlook the possibility of being with her again. The idea would always be lurking at the back of his mind, whether he wanted it to or not. Even if Steve was bringing up valid concerns, he could not allow doubt to snuff out that spark of hope. Seemed like it was finally his turn to play the optimist and do some convincing.

‘Correct me if I’m wrong, Steve, but wasn’t the entire point of me recovering that I’d be able to engage in a more “normal” life?’

Steve’s lips pursed in thought. 'I suppose, but you shouldn't feel pressured by us to take more steps than you're comfortable with at the moment. There's no rush to reach all the milestones at once when you're still figuring things out. I didn't start dating Tony until after the Mandarin happened.'

'When you finally realized that life could be cut short at any time and you'd much rather seize the day than pine from a distance,' Bucky remarked dryly. 'Can't you see that's what I'm trying to do as well? I don't want to wear myself down with endless pondering over what-ifs when I actually have the opportunity to experience them myself. Whether we start dating or we just become good friends, I feel like it's important to open myself up more to people outside of the team.'

Grudgingly, Steve nodded in agreement. He could not find fault with that logic, since it was an echo of the professional advice Bucky had received months before. 

'Okay,' he said, shoulders sagging in defeat. 'You have a point, but I just wanted to make clear that no one's forcing you to jump immediately into romance.'

Bucky waved his concern away. 'Honestly, I'd be pretty damn happy with having her as a friend alone, but…'

'But you wouldn't feel satisfied,' Steve filled in with a knowing look. 'That's one thing that hasn't changed. Back in the day, when you really liked a girl, you couldn't be talked out of asking her for a dance either. Got in trouble with a jealous boyfriend more than once.'

'Well, I'm less suave now and a whole lot more cautious. Plus, I trust Pepper not to have a secret boyfriend who's ready to knock my lights out.' He also trusted Tony not to be cruel enough to have given him false hope.

'Unless they're enhanced, they only stand to break a knuckle or two on those chiseled cheekbones of yours,' Steve said with a snort. 

Relieved at the slight teasing, Bucky cracked a grin. 'Hey, I'm a nice guy. I won't let it come that far without first checking if they have decent health insurance.'

They both laughed at that. 

A familiar mischievous glint appeared in Steve's eyes. 'Of course, all this talk of dating could turn out to be completely irrelevant if you don't get to the first one in time.'

_ The note. _ With all the talk of recovery, Bucky had almost forgotten the reason for their presence at the park. 'Any idea which pancake house she was referring to?'

Steve shrugged. 'Vaguely, but we're seasoned soldiers, Buck. Between the two of us we can definitely figure out what “south of Central Park” really means.'

'We'd better. I've got a free drink on the line.'

Once they left Central Park, they began to cross paths with the growing crowds of people that moved down the New York sidewalks at the approximate speed of a snail. With Christmas looming over the city, shoppers and holiday-goers had taken over daily life in a tsunami of good cheer and ugly sweaters. Bucky wormed his way through a throng of giggling middle-schoolers that stopped to point excitedly at Steve, who waved awkwardly in response, and grabbed his friend by the bicep. Eight o'clock was fast approaching and he didn't care if he'd have to drag Steve's loveable ass over the rough concrete to get there in time. Giving Pepper the impression that he was standing her up was out of the question.

Fortunately, Steve had his priorities straight and didn’t waste time greeting all the girls individually like he’d do on a normal day. He threw them his most apologetic smile and a promise that he’d be available at the Tower later that day for autographs. Which just proved all over again that he was too nice of a human being to be left out alone on the street. Dragging his friend further through the crowd, Bucky dug up his Starkphone with his free hand and typed ‘pancake house’ into Google Maps. The first result was less than three hundred metres away and boasted a proud four star rating. That had to be the one. He showed the indicated route to Steve who nodded in understanding and took over the lead.

A short walk later, they rounded the corner onto the street of their destination. With his enhanced eyesight, Bucky could just about make out the cheerful orange banner with the name of the pancake house and under it, the tall figure of a woman, hair glinting copper in a beam of sunlight. Bucky’s heart promptly performed a somersault at the sight. Pepper had come.

_ Of course, she came _ , the sour tone of The Soldier drifted through his mind.  _ She wrote you a fucking note. _ _ That’s not exactly a rejection.  _

‘Shut up,’ Bucky muttered under his breath, drawing a curious glance from Steve. While he shoved The Soldier back down to the depths, his feet greedily ate away at the distance separating him from Pepper. His heartbeat grew steadily louder until it sounded like a drum with every step he took. 

In the bright light of day, dressed to the nines in a white pantsuit and long overcoat, Pepper was just as beautiful as she’d been in her pajamas. The mystery of the nighttime had been replaced by a sharpness and warmth that drew the eye of even the most phone-obsessed passerby. When she finally noticed the two superheroes approaching her, Bucky felt her gaze lance through him like a burst of heat, filling up the empty space that he hadn’t noticed forming in his gut. 

In contrast, her smile was soft as she beckoned him over. ‘Hello, James. Steve.’

Then, without warning, she leaned in and pressed her lips against his cheek in a fleeting kiss, warm breath fanning across his skin. Bucky inhaled sharply, getting a lungful of the same perfume he’d noticed yesterday. His eyelids fluttered involuntarily as he savoured the scent of sweet jasmine and a heat that was uniquely Pepper.

He returned her greeting with a dazed mumble as she moved on to give Steve a quick one-armed hug. For the first time, he noticed that she was holding onto a white takeaway bag with her other hand. It looked pretty hefty from where he was standing. Unconsciously, he went to relieve her of it. Pepper startled at the cold touch of his metal fingers, but let him take the bag when he tugged at the industrial paper. Bucky lifted it up and down experimentally, trying to determine how much food she’d bought.

Her mouth curled up in a little half-smile. ‘Curious much? I took the liberty of ordering for the both of us.’

‘I thought you were only going to pay for the drinks?’ Bucky suspected he had the stupidest grin plastered across his face. 

By the way she inched closer to him, Pepper didn’t seem to mind. ‘I was in a charitable mood, besides there’s a change of plans. Natasha’s coming to pick us all up.’

‘My Tony-has-planned-some-mischief senses are tingling.’ Steve shook his head in fond exasperation. He’d almost forgotten that the other soldier was still there, watching their cautious flirting in silent wonder. It must have been pretty strange for him to witness Bucky flounder in the presence of a lady for once. Oh, how the tables had turned.

‘Well, you’re not wrong,’ Pepper said with a shrug. 

As if summoned by her admission, the roar of an engine filled the air and yet another one of Tony’s Audi’s swerved into the street. Bucky immediately recognized Natasha’s shock of red hair behind the wheel as she braked abruptly, coming to a standstill at the curb in front of them. His ears rang as the sound of screeching tires faded away. 

The window slid open slowly, revealing a grinning Natasha. ‘Get in, fossils.’

Natasha wasted no time putting her foot on the gas, leaving the pancake house in the metaphorical dust. Bucky had to grab hold of the back of Steve’s seat in order to avoid slamming his forehead into it as the car shot forward. Automatically, his gaze flitted down to Pepper’s lap to check if she had fastened her seat belt. Of course she had, and Bucky had to remind himself for a second that he wasn't looking out for a child but a grown woman, who was probably very well-acquainted with her friend's crazy driving.

To underscore that suspicion, the CEO didn’t seem to be bothered by the sudden increase in speed: the moment she’d slid inside the vehicle, she’d retrieved a rose gold starkphone from her pocket and started tapping away. Envy flared in Bucky’s gut at the tiny device that was absorbing all of her attention and he shifted awkwardly in his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position that allowed him to guard their supposed breakfast from getting squashed while also keeping an eye on the speedometer. He tensed as Natasha turned a corner with the needle pointing dangerously close to ninety kilometres per hour. The assassin behind the wheel wasn’t even pretending that she was following the traffic laws, weaving in and out of lanes with remarkable dexterity. A chorus of car horns accompanied them all the way to the Tower.

Only when the Tower came in sight, did Pepper look up from her phone. ‘Take us to the underground garage,’ she instructed Natasha curtly as she tucked her phone away. ‘I’ve managed to cancel all of my appointments for the day, but I’m supposed to be laying deathly ill in bed right now, so we’d better not risk showing my face outside the Tower.’ She glanced over at Bucky, who abruptly felt all the envy transform into embarrassment at being so needy, and lifted an eyebrow as she noticed him watching her closely. ‘Or there might be questions…’ 

Natasha grinned at her through the rearview mirror. ‘What a perfectly Stark thing to do, Miss Potts!’ 

Pepper huffed out a laugh. ‘Tony has nothing on me. At least I can come up with a good story, he never bothers to make one up.’

Steve cast a grimace in her direction. ‘That might have been my fault, but to be fair, I don’t think you’d like to hear the truth either. Sometimes, Tony forgets that not everyone is as open about what they get up to in private. I’ve had to delete so many text messages this month alone…’ He trailed off awkwardly, and Bucky had to do his very best not to read too far into that statement. He had zero desire to get the image of what Tony and Steve got up to inside the penthouse stuck inside his head.

Surprisingly, Pepper appeared to share his discomfort. Clearing her throat, she turned to look outside the window. ‘Yeah, let’s not get too much into it. I’ve walked into Tony’s bedroom enough times to know what goes on in there and, frankly, I’d much rather forget.’

‘Shame,’ Natasha said, barely containing her glee at their collective prudishness. ‘You could all stand to learn a thing or two.’ She ducked to the side just in time to avoid a punch to the shoulder from Steve. The sound of her laughter and his mortified mumbling accompanied them on the descent into the garage. 

In all actuality, the garage was just another department of Tony’s workshop, used to stock his personal fleet of cars that ranged from a vintage beetle to a hyper-modern racing model. The underground space was divided into three bays. The middle one was free of any obstacle, so that any car could be easily driven up or down the entire length of the garage without disturbing the cars stockpiled into an automated, revolving rack system in the other bays. When any member of the Avengers wanted to go for a drive, they simply had to punch in the identification number of the car they wanted and it would be delivered straight to them (unless Tony was feeling petty enough to deny them access). It was a feature that Bucky and Natasha had shamelessly abused only the day before, leading to eventual hijacking of their vehicle. Since this impromptu trip seemed to have Tony’s full approval, Natasha calmly drove the Audi onto the part of the bay floor that was made out of pressure plates and put it into park. She was up and out of the car in a flash, marching to the back to pop open the trunk. The others followed at a more sedate pace. 

Being careful not to jostle the takeaway bag more than necessary, Bucky wormed his way out of the backseat into the cool interior of the garage. Here, the sting of approaching winter that hung in the air. They’d definitely be having some snow soon, maybe even tonight. The prospect gave him little pleasure. 

Behind him, Pepper and Natasha’s voices echoed through the cavernous space as they argued over the contents of the trunk. Steve stood watching them with open distrust as they loaded their arms with small purple bags.

‘Any idea what your fella’s planning?’ Bucky asked lightly, stepping closer so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice and have it echo all around them. 

‘None whatsoever.’

‘Honestly, it can’t be that bad if Pepper is on it, right?’ As Steve gave him the side-eye, Bucky wondered if his good faith was perhaps fuelled a tad too much by his crush on the woman in question.

‘Well, I’m not sticking around to see the fireworks,’ Steve said with a last dubious glance at the nondescript bags as he backed away towards the elevator bay. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower. If you’re not at dinner, I’ll know that whatever evil plan they’ve concocted has succeeded.’

‘Very funny, coward,’ Bucky drawled at his retreating back, ignoring the niggle of worry at the back of his own mind as Natasha and Pepper closed the trunk with matching grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter, please consider leaving a comment or kudos.


	6. Treat Yourself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some solid fluff to cleanse your soul. <3

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/54/d2/Zg5Phy8h_o.jpg)

*********************

Steve would have quickly rethought his plan to seek refuge in the penthouse if he’d known that they’d be following right on his heels with their shopping bags and secret plans. Bucky had to suppress a snicker as his two companions marched right into the kitchen where his friend was trying to convince a sleepy Tony to join him for a morning shower. Steve’s hands, which had been planted very firmly on the billionaire’s ass as they shared a languid kiss, were withdrawn in a flutter of panic. Tony swayed dangerously to the side in the absence of a sturdy super soldier to keep him upright, but he managed to catch himself against the kitchen counter. Sagging across the marble, he let out a loud groan while Steve’s complexion shifted rapidly between embarrassed tomato and worried ghost. 

Bucky took it all in with a grin. God, he loved those two dumbasses to death.

‘Don’t stop on our accord. We were just starting to enjoy the show,’ Natasha called out and she pushed hard against his back, making him stumble forward slightly. He hissed at her, but she merely tossed her head in the direction of the same counter. ‘Go sit and play nice while I get us set up.’ 

Steve made use of their distraction to flee the kitchen at the same moment that Pepper glided past, snatching the takeaway bag from his unresisting fingers as she beelined for the open kitchen. 

‘Good morning, Tones!’ She stopped to ruffle through his unruly hair. He leaned into her hand with a pitiful whine, eyes still hazy from sleep. ‘I’ve brought some breakfast from the pancake place. Will you eat it once you’ve got some coffee inside you?’ 

Her voice turned almost motherly as she brushed some stray hairs from his face and Bucky was reminded that she’d been his primary support for years, curbing the genius’s most self-destructive tendencies as best as she could. Perhaps that was why she had overcome her initial fearful reaction to Bucky’s outburst so swiftly. She was used to a bit of crazy in her life.

Another shove against his shoulder jolted him out of his rumination. Natasha was glaring at him with impatience. ‘Come on, move your butt before the food gets cold. I have no desire to listen to your stomach grumble all morning, because you’d rather think than eat.’

‘I think the drinks are going cold,’ Pepper threw in casually as she started to unpack the takeaway bag. ‘And you wouldn’t let my money go to waste, would you?’ She showed him a metal travel mug with a small smile.  _ I know you want it _ , her eyes seemed to say. 

Like a traitor, Bucky’s stomach chose to show its displeasure at being empty in that moment and he coughed loudly to cover it up. ‘I lived through the Great Depression. What do you think?’ And the food did smell delicious. His enhanced senses easily picked up the scent of freshly made pancakes and buttery goodness from across the room. 

Before his stomach could embarrass him any further, he whisked over to the counter and accept the mug with a quiet ‘thank you.’ The metal was still plenty warm in his hand as Bucky took a deep sniff.  _ Hmmm. Chocolate _ .

Pepper watched him take his first sip with sparkling eyes. ‘Is it any good?’

_ Good? _ He had to stop himself from moaning out loud as the rich taste of premium cacao flooded his taste buds. ‘Yeah, you picked great.’ 

To his relief his voice came out sounding somewhat casual. The idea of leaning in to kiss her so she could taste it for herself was catapulted to the front of his mind, but he clamped his free hand around the edge of the counter to anchor himself. Bad idea, Barnes.

Luckily, Tony chose that moment to stir from his pile of misery and make grabby motions at the contents of the bag. ‘Coffee?’ He asked plaintively and Bucky could have kissed him in gratitude for breaking the tension. 

The set of Pepper’s mouth hardened for a brief moment in irritation before her expression smoothed out again and she pushed a second mug into the billionaire’s questing hands. ‘Here you go. I had them add some extra hazelnut cream like you prefer.’

‘You are a national treasure, Pepperpot.’

As Tony started to nurse his daily dose of godly elixir, Pepper emptied out the rest of the bag’s contents, revealing a wide range of parcels that she divided between the three of them. The mouth-watering smell intensified as Bucky eagerly uncovered the pancakes that Pepper had ordered for him. The tiny chips of chocolate imbedded in the cooked dough brought a grin to his face. Apparently, Pepper had correctly assumed he had acquired a big sweet tooth after being deprived of all things sweet for a couple of decades. His reaction to the spiciness of her pasta the day before had probably helped her reach that conclusion too. 

‘I’m definitely upping my rating for your selection skills,’ he told her, accepting the cutlery and plate she offered him. ‘This is worth a solid four and a half stars.’

Pepper picked up on his teasing immediately, sliding a transparent container his way. ‘Only four and a half? Allow me to blow your mind even further.’

‘We’ll see,’ he replied, opening a container filled to the brim with a sticky red syrup. Curiously, he scooped some up on his pinky and brought it to his mouth. The taste held the middle between sweet and tart. Perfectly suited to accompany the bitterness of the dark chocolate. 

‘Raspberry,’ he guessed and Pepper shot him a smug look as she unpacked her own breakfast and Tony’s. Their parcels contained a few layers of waffles each and Bucky was pretty sure that the blue specks in Tony’s were miniscule parts of blueberry. The man happened to be addicted to them. In contrast, Peppers’ waffles appeared to be kind of plain, no extra filling in sight, but the dough had an odd colour, almost orange in hue. 

‘Don’t tell me you’ve ordered spicy waffles for yourself?’ Bucky asked, disbelieving.

He got a happy hum in reply as Pepper lifted a plain waffle to her lips and took a huge bite. ‘Delicious,’ she mumbled through a mouth full of food. 

Bucky found his own disgust mirrored on Tony’s face, finally awake enough to participate in conversation. ‘Ugh. You’re impossible, Pep.’

‘No, you just don’t have the stomach for it,’ Pepper shot back, booping his scrunched up nose. 

In a flash, Bucky was back in the thirties, sitting at his parents’ dinged-up table with the wobbly leg while his sisters bickered about the hard cheese their father had brought home for dinner. Becca had hated cheese with a passion; it always left her with an upset stomach. 

_ What a silly thing to remember, _ he thought, as he drank in their young faces before they melted into shadow again. He felt The Soldier stir at the shift, but caught only the barest hint of interest from the man before he settled back.

Bucky blinked his eyes open, not realizing he’d closed them as the memory had washed over him. His breakfast companions were watching him with twin expressions of worry. Pepper had even reached out to touch him and the tips of her fingers pressed lightly against his. 

‘You okay?’

Too choked-up to tell her that the memory had been a good one, he closed his fingers around hers and squeezed them reassuringly. The furrow in her brow smoothed out as she squeezed back. Her skin was really warm, Bucky noted distantly, like her flesh had soaked up the spice and was now emitting a constant heat. 

Tony cleared his throat, breaking the moment of quiet. ‘Okay. I’m not going to ask how you two suddenly got all cozy with each other,’ he said, gaze flitting between the two of them in wonder, ‘but your pancakes must be growing cold by now, and if you’re not eating them, I know a different super soldier that would love a big breakfast.’

Keeping his fingers intertwined with Pepper’s, who looked perfectly content for them to stay there, Bucky raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re a billionaire, Stark. If your bottomless pit of a boyfriend wants pancakes, I’m sure you can cough up the money to have them delivered with a generous tip included.’

Eloquent as ever, Tony simply stuck out his tongue. ‘Life is for those who seize the day, Snowflake.’

‘Dirty opportunist,’ Bucky fired back, slathering his pancakes in raspberry syrup with his free hand. To his delight, Pepper failed to smother a snort with another bite of waffle.

The rest of breakfast elapsed more peacefully as the three of them dug into their respective meals with gusto. About halfway through, Steve reemerged from the bathroom, freshly recovered from his bout of acute embarrassment, and joined them, idly stealing bites from Tony’s plate. He too eyed their entangled fingers with great interest, but unlike his partner, he kept his comments to himself. Natasha took even longer to rejoin them and her arrival was accompanied by the scrape of chair legs over the parquet floor. Bucky turned to see her drag a close-backed bar stool from the lounge towards them, a familiar purple bag clutched under her other arm.

She inspected their cozy little breakfast arrangement with a critical eye before abruptly pointing at him. ‘Bucky, you’re coming with me,’ she demanded brusquely as he continued on her path to the opposite part of the penthouse where Steve had just returned from. ‘It’s time for you to wash off that layer of sweat. Steve can grab you some clothes from his closet while you shower, and Stark can set up the main event.’ Offering no further explanation, she disappeared behind the corner, chair in tow. 

Bucky gaped at Pepper, a question on his lips, but she simply rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand before releasing it. ‘Don’t keep Nat waiting. She’s putting in a lot of effort into making this fun for you.’ 

Desperate, he turned to Steve, but the other soldier shrugged helplessly as he was fed another bite of waffle by Tony. Contentment rolled off his relaxed frame in waves, drowning out the concern for his best friend’s plight. Bucky rolled his eyes in exasperation at the sight, but got up anyway. Experience had taught him that it was better to not keep Natasha waiting or she might spring a worse trap on you.

Pepper smiled up at him in encouragement. ‘See you in a minute.’

He highly doubted whatever kind of ‘fun’ Natasha had in mind would be over in a minute, but he tried to match her sense of hope. ‘When I return, you can have that five star rating.’

Her smile broadened. ‘And it will be my pleasure to accept.’ 

This time, he relished the flutter of fragile wings inside his stomach.

Honestly, he didn’t know what he’d been expecting when Natasha had invited him into one of the penthouse bathrooms, but it had not been for her to accost him. Before he had even one foot in the door, she was pulling at his shirt, dragging it over his head and off his arms.

‘Get in the shower,’ she said curtly, throwing his shirt in the laundry hamper. Bucky didn’t bother covering himself up as he continued to undress. Thanks to the joys of Red Room conditioning, they were both too pragmatic to care much about the amount of skin the other got to see. It would have been different with any other member of the Avengers, because then Bucky would have to face up to the pity in their eyes instead of Natasha’s entirely clinical gaze. As long as she didn’t start making a fuss about his scars, he couldn’t care less.

The spray of water from the showerhead was predictably hot as he stepped under it, but Bucky didn’t let the warmth lull him into a false sense of security. The fogged over glass divider made it difficult to see what Natasha was getting up to at the other side of the screen, but he could hear her rummaging about in the cabinets and he’d spotted her placing the requisitioned bar stool in front of the tall mirror.

Starting to feel kind of antsy, Bucky made quick work of his hair, lathering it up with Steve’s scentless shampoo of choice. To his chagrin, he realized that it had grown to an impractical length without him noticing. When not pinned up in his customary bun, the longest strands reached halfway to his shoulder blades. Soon, his hair would get caught between the plates of the arm if he wasn’t mindful. Another worry to add to the list. His stomach curdled at the thought of sitting down in a barber shop and letting a complete stranger have a go at his hair, though. The Soldier would be hell to keep in check if he ever made it that far.

Putting the matter out of his thoughts, Bucky focussed instead on the simple task of washing the rest of his body. During the run, dust had mingled with sweat to form a thin layer on his skin that he made short work of. As he watched the suds being sucked down the drain, he began to feel less like the two near-sleepless nights were dragging him down. 

Refreshed, he gave a knock on the glass. ‘Hey, you ready for me to come out?’

‘Not yet,’ Natasha replied, voice faint over the clatter of water. ‘Steve hasn’t brought any clothes yet, but you can dry off in there if you want.’

‘Sure!’ He shut off the water and stuck his arm outside to receive a fluffy towel from her. Despite the bathroom being pretty toasty, Bucky could feel goosebumps rising on his skin. He quickly started to dry his skin before the chill could turn into actual cold. At the other side of the glass wall, he could hear the bathroom door open and Steve’s low voice as he presumably handed over the clothes. When the door closed again, Bucky slung the towel around his waist and poked his head outside. 

‘Almost.’ Natasha was busily sorting through a pile of clothes and when she found what she’d been looking for, she tossed it over her shoulder at him. Bucky’s fist closed around a handful of polyester fabric that felt nothing like the soft silk underwear that he knew Tony guilted Steve into buying for himself. Confused, he shook the fabric out. They were swimming trunks. Honest to God Captain America swimming shorts with a white star positioned strategically over the crotch. 

Bucky felt himself flush. ‘I can’t wear these!’

He waved the offending item of clothing in Natasha’s direction, hoping it would prompt her to reveal something more acceptable to wear, because this was just a very bad joke and Bucky wasn’t planning on living it down.

Natasha quirked an eyebrow at him, unimpressed by his flustered reaction. ‘Of course you can wear those,’ she replied calmly, putting the rest of the pile aside. ‘Steve’s clothes are the only ones that will fit you and unless you prefer the Iron Man shorts, I have nothing else on offer.’

Irritation rose inside him as he gestured at the pile she’d only just discarded. ‘And what are those supposed to be then?’

‘Pajamas for later,’ she explained like it was the most logical thing in the world. ‘They’re not suited for what we’re going to do for the next hour or so.’

Bucky suddenly felt the urge to bash his head against the glass. Maybe that would make her speak sense. ‘And what exactly  _ are _ we going to do, oh mysterious one?’

‘Isn’t it obvious? We’re having a spa day.’ For a second, he thought she was joking, but Natasha’s expression remained completely serious. 

‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ He stared at her in disbelief.

‘Not at all. Now put them on, tiger, and have a seat.’ She patted the back of the chair invitingly. 

Bucky eyed the chair with distrust, wondering what the hell she was going to do to him once he sat on it, but he acquiesced to her demand nonetheless. He stepped into the shorts, which were deceptively tight, and scuttled over to the chair. 

As he settled in, Natasha patted his shoulders firmly. ‘That’s it. Now, I’ve only got one question for you before I start: what length do you want it at?’

Bucky blinked dumbly at himself in the mirror. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Your hair,’ she clarified, tugging at the wet strands. ‘You’re attending the gala tomorrow and unfortunately the New York elite haven’t caught onto the whole murderous hippie style you’ve got going. So how much would you like me to cut off? Just the ends or the whole lot?’

_ Oh.  _ Bucky’s mind went blank for a second trying to deal with the fact that the problem he’d been pondering while showering was now knocking at the door and asking him to make a snap decision. He hadn’t quite anticipated how much pressure would fall on his shoulders. With his current head of hair, he had a lot of options. Too many, really. He tried to take a step back and think calmly, analyze a situation like he would as a sniper on the battlefield. 

As he studied himself in the mirror, Bucky tried to imagine what he’d look like with all the different modern hairstyles. He immediately crossed clean-shaven off the list, because that gave him all the wrong vibes. Moreover, it would force him to wear hats in the colder environments that the Avengers operated in, and ever since the muzzle and goggles had been ripped off during his fight with Steve, he hadn’t been able to bear the thought of anything constricting around his head. Not an option.

_ What about shorter hair?  _ James Buchanan Barnes had certainly had the look down when he roamed New York. All suave and charming and handsome and not modern Bucky at all. Plus, hadn’t Bucky taken a stand against being conflated with who he used to be? Adopting a similar hairstyle would merely serve to blur the lines that Steve and him worked very hard to maintain. Turning that understanding on its head was not something Bucky wanted to subject their friendship to. At least, not while he was still figuring things out for himself. Maybe in a few years he’d be able to make the change, but not now…

_ Shoulder length _ , The Soldier suggested swiftly, sensing an opening in Bucky’s resolve through which he could squeeze himself.  _ It’s familiar, relatively easy to maintain, and it won’t constrict our movement.  _

_ You’re still thinking like a weapon _ , Bucky pushed back, more out of spite than anything else. Although The Soldier often supplied him with helpful advice, he hated how the darker part of him had a tendency to analyse their body like a weapon. It’s not like the other man desired to be returned to the state of ‘asset’, but he had trouble forming connections with other people ever since the memory wipes had started to fail. It was a miracle the assassin hadn't been more disgruntled about his attempts to befriend Pepper. But that was something to worry about later, first, he really needed to figure out what to do with his hair.

With a sigh, Bucky realized that he was left with one option. 'If I want to leave it this long, can you make it look good?'

'Of course I can make you look good,' Natasha said with a loud sniff. 'Back in the day, when I used to run undercover ops, I was often my own mission support. That included doing my hair, extensions and wigs. Trust me, I know my way around a pair of scissors.' She snipped the pair she was holding demonstratively, drawing a smile from him.

'Is that why you change your hairstyle every year?' 

Natasha merely hmm-ed at that as she began to part his hair. 'Here's what I propose: I cut off the ends until they're nice and healthy again, put in some layers, and then you can tell me what else needs to go. Sound good?'

Bucky considered his reflection. The pale, withdrawn figure in the mirror returned his gaze nervously, but he could see no fear in his eyes, only anticipation of what was to come.

‘Snip away,’ he told her and Natasha complied with a secretive, little smile.

A flurry of scissors and combs later, Bucky found himself with a greatly improved version of the style he’d carelessly grown his hair into. He marveled at how sleek Natasha had managed to make it look. The longest layer waved gently past the top of his shoulders. Almost wonderingly, he wound his fingers through the slightly wet strands.

Natasha beamed at him through the reflection in the mirror. ‘Now, I know Pepper has already received your coveted five star rating with her choice of catering, but how did I do?’

‘Honestly, you worked a miracle,’ he breathed, drinking in the sight. He looked younger and healthier. Immediately, his mind flashed over to the people in the next room. Would they like it too? Would Pepper?

Reading his thoughts with an uncanny accuracy, Natasha motioned for him to leave the chair. ‘Let’s show Steve what a real twenty-first century icon looks like. He’s going to need to get used to being outclassed by you again.’

He rubbed the back of his neck shyly. ‘Steve’s always going to remain America’s sweetheart, though. I can’t compete on that level.’

‘You need to have your eyes checked,’ she replied with a roll of her eyes. ‘And I know of at least one person of the female persuasion that’s going to prefer you over him.’ Her gaze turned sly as she looked him up and down. ‘Speaking of. We’d better present you in the most attractive way possible. Just keep on the shorts. You’ll be getting all wet in a few minutes anyway.’

By now, it was no surprise that Bucky’s pale skin instantly flushed red. He thought of the exposed scarring around his shoulder and how Pepper might be reminded of their disastrous first ‘meeting’ in the workshop. 

‘Can’t I at least get a shirt?’

Natasha immediately grabbed hold of the pile of leftover clothing and clutched it defensively to her chest. ‘Not a chance. Now get a move on, soldier boy.’ She indicated the bathroom door with a toss of her head. ‘Go and make me proud.’

Gathering all his courage in one deep breath, Bucky gently pushed the door handle down, allowing the door to open further under its own momentum. It was unnecessarily dramatic, but he enjoyed the few extra seconds of respite before a loud whistle broke the silence of the penthouse.

‘Look at you, Snowflake!’ Tony shouted in ill-disguised delight from where he leaned on the counter, now also clad in a pair of swimming shorts with little arc reactors on them. ‘You’re really learning how to treat yourself!’

Steve merely blinked, astonished. He, at least, had remained fully clothed. ‘I feel like I’m missing some kind of obscure reference here, but you look great, Buck.’

‘That’s a severe understatement of my hairdressing prowess and his handsomeness,’ Natasha added as she wormed her way past him. Her fingers were already occupied with loosening up the buttons of her shirt, revealing the top half of a black sports bikini. Bucky’s eyes were drawn to the red splotch of scar tissue on her lower stomach. He’d put that there. 

Of course, she noticed him looking and tossed the shirt straight at his face, though he was able to snatch it from mid-air. ‘Stop dawdling and follow me to the next stop of your spa day.’

Tony got up in a long stretch. ‘Actually, it’s more of a spa half-day,’ he corrected her as he padded over to join them, ‘but nobody cares for technicalities except for me and Steve, so I’ll let it slide.’

‘Nobody likes a spoilsport, Stark,’ Natasha reminded him with a wink.

‘And that’s why I’m fully cooperating with this ridiculous idea of yours.’ He turned to Bucky. ‘We’re used to doing this once a month at an actual, honest-to-God wellness center, you know. But since you’re not comfortable around strangers yet, we decided to downsize for the occasion.’ 

‘I hope I’m not putting you out.’

Tony waved away his concerns. ‘It’s all about spending time with friends and letting down our hair, Buckaroo. Who cares how expensive the surroundings are when you’re in good company?’ Some of Bucky’s nerves abated. That did sound rather nice.

Unconcerned, Natasha shucked off her skinny jeans as she led the way to the actual master bathroom that connected to Steve and Tony’s suite. ‘Let’s get on with it, gentlemen. One should never keep a lady waiting!’

Glancing up from the remnants of his breakfast, Steve called after them, ‘Please behave yourselves!’

‘Don’t worry, darling!’ Tony shouted in return. ‘If I was going to have a foursome, you’d be the first invited along for the ride.’

‘How refined, Sir,’ Jarvis commented from the ceiling as he slid open the bedroom door for them.

The penthouse master bathroom was a fine example of how Tony’s hedonist tendencies translated to architectural choices. Surrounded by marble tiling and stretches of floor-length mirrors, the space was dominated by a round bathtub set in a floor recess at its center, large enough to fit six adults comfortably. Steam was already rising from the water when they entered, dampening the hair of its sole occupant.

Eyes closed, Pepper was lounging serenely in the tub, the slant of her shoulders bare above the waterline, but Bucky’s gaze was drawn straight to enticing curve that connected to the column of her throat. All pale flesh exposed for him to follow with his lips and tongue, or sink his teeth into. His heart gave a violent jerk at the thought of decorating her skin in little marks, proclaiming to the world that she trusted him to get that close to her. He’d gladly accept any mark she wanted to place on him in return. The vision was so distracting that he nearly slipped on the wet tile and Tony had to grab hold of his arm to stop him from careening head first into the tub. 

‘Watch your step! There’s no need to crack your skull open on the floor!’ He laughed good-naturedly, steadying Bucky at the edge of the tub. His eyes gleamed with the knowledge of what had induced the little bout of clumsiness. Bucky’s felt heat spread through his skin, all the way down his chest.

Unfortunately, Pepper had been startled from her peaceful lounging, splattering water everywhere and robbing Bucky of the sight he’d been admiring. Wide-eyed, her gaze flitted over to him and came to rest on the bare skin of his muscled stomach. The shift from panicked to appreciative was near instant, and Bucky had to suppress the urge to flex a little.  _ Yes, please. You can look to your heart’s content.  _ His body seemed to scream. 

When she spoke, her voice was low and husky. ‘You know, when I first saw those shorts, I was skeptical, but they do fit rather nicely.’ She blinked up innocently at him, probably knowing exactly what funny knots those words were tying in his insides. A frisson of heat shot straight down his spine. 

Before his reaction could show itself in a more conspicuous manner, Bucky lowered himself into the tub across from her, groaning softly as the heat of the water eased the tension in his muscles. Involuntarily, his eyes drifted shut. The water sloshed around him when the others followed his example. Natasha pushed at his flesh shoulder for him to scoot over and he did so without hesitation, until his metal arm came into contact with something soft. Fingers tangled with his under the waterline.

_ Oh.  _ His eyelids fluttered open in time to see Pepper exchange a bright grin with the former assassin while she cozied up to his side. Her body was one long line of heat against the metal sensors inside the arm. They tingled almost as if they were real nerve endings, wonderful and completely bewildering. A shudder wracked through him.

Pepper’s eyes flew up to his, lips curving up at his overwhelmed expression. ‘How are you enjoying spa day so far?’

_ Are you sure it isn’t called matchmaking day? _ Bucky wanted to ask.  _ Because it sort of feels like that’s what the entire day is about. _

‘’It’s a bit more personal attention than what I’m used to,’ he admitted instead, tangling their fingers more firmly so she wouldn’t misunderstand his meaning and move away. ‘But the haircut was a nice surprise, though I’m not convinced the investors are going to like me any better because of it.’

‘The investors can suck on their lemons,’ Pepper said with vehemence, causing Tony let out a startled splutter. ‘Long hair suits you perfectly. If anything, they’re going to be jealous because they can’t make theirs look that healthy.’

Ducking his head slightly in embarrassment, Bucky mumbled. ‘Wonders of the super soldier serum.’

‘And of a great hairdresser,’ Natasha added, stretching out her legs as she fully settled back. ‘Which reminds me, we still need to work some kind of conditioner into those locks of yours. There should be some in the bags we brought.’

Pepper shifted slightly beside him to look over her shoulder. ‘The one by the cabinet?’

‘I think so.’

Before Bucky could protest that he’d get the conditioner himself, she was rising up to her feet, water sluicing off her elegant curves. Despite sitting in the most humid environment possible, Bucky’s mouth suddenly turned dry as the desert. Although she wore a simple black bandeau bikini top with matching bottoms, he thought she couldn’t have looked more striking. Who needed ruffles or flashy patterns when you had Pepper Potts to lift your design to the next level?

To make matters worse, Tony sent him an exaggerated wink once her back was turned. ‘Refresh my memory, Pep. Is that the bathing suit I got you for your Christmas?’ 

‘If you mean the bathing suit that  _ I  _ bought with  _ your  _ money last Christmas, then yes.’ Pepper didn’t look up from where she was rifling through the bag, but Bucky swore her back tensed ever so slightly, like she wasn’t liking the direction in which he was leading the conversation.

The billionaire pouted. ‘Hey, I got you a lot of other fun stuff. I haven’t heard you complaining about any of those.’

‘Because that would be entirely inappropriate, Tony.’ This time, she shot him a glare, before briefly glancing over at Bucky. She seemed nervous, he noted with some confusion. ‘And it’s none of your business, since I won’t be using any of your gifts with you in the same room.’ 

Bucky barely kept from choking on his own tongue.  _ Are they talking about… sex toys?  _ He had to smother a whimper by sinking deeper into the bathwater, so only his nose and upper face were showing. 

Tony’s eyes flashed over to him, mouth stretching into a shit-eating grin. ‘Oh, was that too much too soon for you, Snowflake? Told ya, you’d need some pretty thick skin.’ Bucky felt like being swallowed up by something other than the bath, preferably a deep void where visions of Pepper in all kinds of compromising positions wouldn’t be able to follow him. Of course, the universe wasn’t that merciful.

‘Tony, that’s too much!’ Pepper cried indignantly as a bottle of conditioner sailed past Bucky’s head and hit the genius square in the sternum. Water splashed as it bounced off and into the water with an oof from him, but Natasha caught it before it could start to sink to the bottom. 

‘You haven’t got a subtle bone in your body, Stark,’ she remarked dryly as he rubbed the red spot appearing on his chest. 

Behind him, Bucky could hear Pepper stomping angrily back to the bathtub. ‘I signed up for a relaxing spa day, Tony. Not for you to force me or Bucky into uncomfortable situations, so back off!’ The warning tone of her voice brooked no argument, and Tony seemed somewhat contrite as he retreated to the edge of the tub. 

‘Fine,’ he agreed quietly as he drew himself up from the water. He shot the two of them an apologetic smile. ‘If the lady and gent feel more comfortable without my needling, I’ll take my scheming ass to the next room. Steve owes me a massage, anyway.’ Pepper didn’t seem too happy to see him go, but her shoulders relaxed incrementally as he slung a big towel around himself and scuttled out of the bathroom. 

‘Why do I feel like he provoked me on purpose?’ She muttered under her breath as she slid back into the water and accepted the conditioner bottle from Natasha, who shrugged noncommittally in response.

Bucky couldn’t help but feel a stab of regret at having caused the mood to sour. ‘I didn’t mean for you to argue with Tony on my account, Pepper. I’m a big boy, he can have some fun at my expense if he wants to.’

With cheeks still flushed from her outburst, Pepper began to pluck at the thin layer of packaging around the bottle cap. ‘It’s not that,’ she said, eyes bright. ‘Tony’s such a control freak, he can’t let anything move at its own pace. But in this case, I won’t let him.’

‘So, you’re trying to give him a learning experience?’ As she continued to struggle with the packaging, Bucky beckoned for her to hand it over. His metal finger easily ruptured the plastic. ‘That seems like a tough job.’

‘The toughest,’ Pepper and Natasha replied in synch, giggling as they spotted the other’s matching exasperated expression. The tension in the room deflated like a balloon as their laughter bounced off the marble tiles. Bucky watched the two red haired women fondly, recalling that their friendship was older than the instatement of the Avengers Initiative. They probably had some wild stories to tell about that time. 

Once their laughter had calmed down a bit, Bucky set the plastic packaging aside and offered the bottle back to Pepper. ‘Care to help me establish a proper hair routine?’

Her smile returned in full. ‘I’d love to.’

‘I’m just going to close my eyes for a bit while you guys get on with it,’ Natasha said, languidly leaning back against the edge of the tub. ‘Sam kept me up all night.’

‘Not you too.’ Pepper shook her head in disbelief, but finally uncapped the bottle of conditioner, squirting some of the white goo into the palm of her hand. ‘Please dunk your head, James,’ she instructed him as she rubbed her hand together, working up a lather. ‘Your hair needs to be wet for this to absorb properly.’

Sucking in a breath, Bucky swiftly lowered himself under the waterline before coming up again. Some strands of his hair plastered themselves to his face in the process, but he shook them loose, impatient to receive the next set of instructions.

Pleased, Pepper motioned for him to turn around and guided him backwards until he was leaning against her with his upper-back. His skin seemed to burn hotly in anticipation where it rested against hers, but he forced himself to stay completely still as she began her ministrations.

First, her fingers slid through the wet strands, parting them and applying the lather to each individually. She tickled the back of his neck and shoulders as she worked her way through. This was okay, he thought. Her touch was perfectly innocent. Nothing that should set his skin afire like it did.

It felt like the calm before the storm when he heard her uncap the bottle again to get more product. A mix of nerves and excitement warred for prominence inside his mind as he took a calming breath.

‘Ready?’ Pepper asked softly, stroking a slick finger up the slope of his shoulder.

He shivered, breathless. ‘Yes.’

She didn’t tarry any longer and her fingers wound itself into his hair, tugging at the shorter strands at the nape of his neck. Carefully she mapped out the terrain, slowly working her way up to his skull with long strokes. The swirling movement knocked the last bits of resistance right out of his head and he slumped helplessly in her arms. She let out a surprised little puff of breath that ghosted across his skin and dug in her fingers reflexively. 

Unbidden, a moan ripped itself free from Bucky’s lips as every muscle inside his body tautened and then relaxed. Tingles danced lazily up and down his spine as she repeated the action, now swirling her fingers all over his skull. Her fingertips seemed to instinctively find the spots where they could bring him relief and Bucky felt himself being carried away on a cloud of bliss as she started to massage his temples in a circular motion. 

Distantly, he could make out that Natasha was asking Pepper something, but he was too caught up in the soft swirling motion to pay attention to her reply. As long as her warmth stayed pressed up against his back, he couldn’t care less about what happened outside of this bathroom. Not even Dr. Doom waltzing in, dressed up in a pink tutu and dancing a fair rendition of the can-can, could disturb him now, though he’d have a good laugh about it later.

He must have drifted off at some point, because the next thing he became aware of was strong arms lifting him right out of the bath. He whined quietly in protest as Pepper’s warm presence at his back was replaced by a cold draft of air, but then he was being patted dry with long, soothing strokes and he couldn’t care less. 

A whisper soft kiss was placed at his temple. ‘Good night, James.’

For once, he went to sleep with a smile on his face.

The sun was starting to get low on the horizon when Bucky slowly drifted into consciousness in the confines of his own bed. His heaviest comforter was pulled up to right under his chin, pressing him down into the sturdy mattress. He felt almost afloat as he dozed, reliving the soft ministrations that had carried him to sleep. Silently, he marvelled at how well Pepper had taken care of him, sweeping aside his worries like they were nothing but dust in the wind. There had to be some way he could return the favour…

He blinked up at the ceiling with great difficulty as his eyelids felt like they were being weighed down by cinder blocks. ‘Jarvis?’ He asked hoarsely, voice barely louder than a whisper.

‘What can I do for you, Sergeant Barnes?’

‘Where’s Pepper now?’ He hoped she wasn’t too far, because his legs didn’t seem to care much for carrying him around, preferring to bonelessly sink into the mattress. He’d crawl if he needed to.

Jarvis’s tone was amused when he answered: ‘Miss Potts is currently in the gym, working her way through a training course with Mr. Stark.’

‘Oh. I’m glad they made up, at least.’ Bucky’s thoughts moved slow, like molasses. ‘Does she kick butt?’

‘I believe she and Mr Stark are neck and neck when it comes to pure firepower. Her accuracy within the firing range simulation is remarkable.’

An unexplainable feeling of pride filled his bones, dragging him under with its warmth ‘She’s pretty brilliant, right?’ He mumbled, eyelids drifting shut again. 

‘I will take you on your word, Sergeant Barnes,’ the A.I. said politely as the blinds began to slide closed, throwing a slumbering Bucky into darkness.


	7. The Cold Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a warning for the sensitive souls out there. Some of the content in this chapter is warning worthy, so I ask you to re-examine the tags and decide if this story is really for you. If you have any concerns, please contact me here or on Discord.
> 
> Personal growth is not always easy when you're an ex-brainwashed assassin.

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/ba/28/LMXNCEiG_o.jpg)

*********************

The depths of the Ideal Federal Savings bank were cold and impersonal. The public that entrusted their money to the innocuous bank employees a few floors above could hardly imagine what kind of sordid secrets lay behind their friendly-smiling faces. Hydra had buried its tentacles deep into the fabric of daily life, rooting out everything that it found undesirable and replacing it with their own twisted ideal of society. In the bank they’d taken the rooting part very literally, retrofitting a set of old vaults into a working base from which they dispatched their most feared weapon. 

For The Soldier, the long trek down had always been accompanied by the sound of the safety being removed from guns and the electric crackle of taser batons. A Strike team usually picked him up at the back door and escorted him down to the vault, with a gun to the back of his head if need be. They shouldn’t have been that paranoid, because The Soldier had only ever felt the desire to turn on them in a rare burst of annoyance at their insistent prodding. The bloodbath stayed inside his mind for the time being.

He let them push him into the chair without putting up any resistance. That would only make the bothersome business of maintenance drag on longer than The Soldier had the patience for. Increasingly, he found himself looking forward to the silence of the cryopod where no one would be issuing orders or asking him pointed questions he did not know the answer to. 

_ What is your name? _ I don’t know.

_ Where were you born? _ I don’t know.

_ Do you recognize this man? _ No.

All these negatives formed an important part of his pre- and post-wipe procedure that The Soldier had yet to discover the purpose of. As Hydra’s most valuable asset, he was allowed no connection past the organisation’s own members. They conscientiously fulfilled his needs, though he had very little of them, and otherwise left him in peace. He had no use for a scrawny blonde man that looked like he could be blown over by a strong wind, nor for a home or a name. He existed to serve. Shaper of the century.

His handler arrived just when his escort finished up with securing his arms to the chair. This one was a tall, built like a brickhouse and decked out entirely in black tactical gear. His dark hair was long and unkempt, a far cry from the suited gentlemen that generally came to debrief The Soldier after a successful mission. A sense of unease filled The Soldier as he watched the slow, deliberate manner in which the man approached him, like a predator closing in on his prey. Unconsciously, The Soldier clenched his fists. 

The man sunk to his knees in front of the chair, a familiar steel-grey gaze pinning him in place. ‘Barnes, this conversation is long-overdue.’

Startled, Bucky sucked in a deep breath as his mind broke free from the memories of the Asset.  _ James Buchanan Barnes. Brooklyn, New York. Yes. _

The Soldier watched him work through the answers with badly concealed impatience. His metal fingers tapped out a rhythm on his bent knee. Bucky tried to move his own fingers on reflex, but they refused to uncurl themselves. Panic flooded his mind as it dawned on him that The Soldier had effectively chained him in place. A prisoner in his own mind. Or should he say theirs?

‘Just like the good old days, don’t you think?’ The Soldier asked mockingly, gesturing casually at the decommissioned vault around them. ‘The two of us, alone in the dark, all but forgotten by the world above. Existence was so much simpler without you needlessly complicating it.’

Bucky could hear his breathing getting more laboured and he squeezed his eyes shut hard to keep himself from hyperventilating. ‘I-I don’t get w-what you mean.’

‘Attachments, Barnes,’ The Soldier said, tone a hairsbreadth removed from snide. His metal hand closed around Bucky’s jugular, forcefully tilting his head up so their gazes met. Bucky shivered at the bone deep frustration brewing behind the thin layer of ice in The Soldier’s expression. ‘You appear to have developed a proclivity towards them. Shall I list them off? Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, the woman.’ With every name his hold around Bucky’s throat tightened, making dark spots dance in his vision, until he choked on the last word like it had burned his throat on the way up. 

_ Why not use her name? _ Bucky thought, desperately gasping for air.  _ What are you so afraid of?  _

He knew The Soldier could hear his words whether he said them aloud or not. His dark counterpart flinched, fingers spasming in surprise before bearing down with renewed strength as indignation started to visibly pour from The Soldier in the shape of shadowy tentacles, curling around the legs of the chair. The lights flickered ominously overhead.

‘I am not afraid of anything!’ The Soldier spat, eyes uncharacteristically bright, a far cry from the collected if grudging presence Bucky had grown used to. However, his hold remained steady, allowing Bucky just enough air supply to stay conscious. ‘This body is mine by right too, because I possess the skill that ensured our survival. I am a ghost, untouchable.’

‘Not anymore,’ Bucky managed to choke out, gathering his courage like a warm fire in his chest. ‘Not while I’m in this body too.’

The Soldier’s lips curled up in a snarl. ‘And you think that will always be true? We were stronger without all these distractions, survived decades without them. We can do so again! I can accomplish that for us.’ Dread started the pool in Bucky’s stomach at the feverish gleam that came over his counterpart’s eyes. Something was eating away at him, forcing him out of the dark corners and into the light and making him act more rashly than usual.

With a flash of clarity, Bucky realized just what kind of damage an unstable Winter Soldier could be capable of doing in the span of even a few minutes left in control of their shared body. 

‘No-no-no.’ Intelligible noises started to tumble from his lips as he struggled against the hold of the metal arm and his bindings. There existed no doubt in his mind that The Soldier had dragged him here, to the farthest recess of their mind, in order to take temporary control of their body. Possibly to add more red to their ledger, if Bucky was getting the gist of his sudden emotional outburst. In which case, the names of his friends could turn from taunts to a ready made kill list. Enraged, he kicked at his doppelganger shins with renewed energy, but The Soldier simply stepped aside, leaving his feet to hit only empty air.

Smirking at his feeble attempt to break free, The Soldier jerked him forward by the throat and then slammed him back against the metal headrest of the chair. Stars exploded before his eyes and Bucky reeled.

By the time the last dark spots finally disappeared from his field of vision, The Soldier was but a dark, menacing silhouette in the light of the doorway. 

‘Catch me if you can,’ he said flatly before slamming the reinforced vault door closed and throwing Bucky into absolute darkness.

For a long moment, he sat frozen with only the sound of his own heavy breathing for company, then his mind went into overdrive. The Soldier would not be wasting any time on self-congratulation, so Bucky could not afford to waste any on fear or anger either. Frantically, he started to mentally catalogue the locations of his friends. He had no indication of what time of night it was, only that he must have entered the deep sleep phase of his cycle for The Soldier to be able to manifest himself this clearly. That should only have taken his brain an hour or two to accomplish, so the time had to be somewhere between one and two o’clock. Not an unreasonable hour for Tony to still be up, tinkering away in his workshop behind reinforced walls. The question was if Steve was holed up with him, or if he was sleeping in the penthouse, unsuspecting of the danger coming his way. 

In comparison, Sam and Natasha’s location was easily determined. The two of them had made plans weeks ago to attend an evening performance of the New York ballet and would subsequently be spending the night at Sam’s apartment. They were out of The Soldier’s direct reach. He’d prefer to finish off those within the Tower first, anyway.

That left Pepper… He had no fucking clue as to where Pepper could be at this hour and that terrified him more than he felt comfortable admitting with a homicidal maniac currently in charge of his body. Bucky had no idea where the CEO slept when she stayed over at the Tower. Maybe she wasn’t sleeping at all, but indulging herself in another midnight snack? Or was she with Tony, talking through last-minute details for the gala? Bucky suppressed a groan. Too many variables. He consoled himself with the thought that the assassin on the loose wouldn't have any idea where to find her either.

What he needed to do was to keep things simple, tap into that calm headspace that had made him such an effective sniper during the war and formulate his own checklist, albeit a much shorter one than The Soldier's. For now, the first order of business was to break free from the chair and, by extension, the vault. He wasn't absolutely certain that this would put him back in control of whatever was unfolding on the outside, but it would be a step in the right direction. That was a problem to worry over later.

Fortunately, The Soldier hadn't replicated the wiping procedure, presumably because electrocuting the hell out of Bucky's brain would mean impairing himself too. Small mercies, he thought as he tested the give of the magnetic clamps around his metal arm. If he were to get one free, then the other one would be a simple case of ripping the restraint off. He'd witnessed Steve do it once while being pummeled from all sides on grainy Shield surveillance footage, so how difficult could it be?

He took a deep breath and counted to three in his head, then he strained against the bindings with all the physical strength he could muster. His heart skipped a beat as the magnets pulled free for a few precious centimetres before slamming back into the armrest. Frustration burst from his pores. 

'Goddamnit,' he cursed at the ceiling. 'This is my head too, asshole!' A faint echo resonated from the walls, a single chuckle that made Bucky's blood run cold. If Bucky was going to stop The Soldier from doing anything, he needed to spring into action now. Gritting his teeth, he sent more power to the arm's servos, splitting the plates to let the heat escape and began to pull anew. 

These restraints are nothing but a representation of The Soldier's will, he reminded himself, as drops of sweat started to form on his brow. They're his way of proving that you're weaker than him. Are you really going to let that belief stand while your friends are in danger?

_ No _ , Bucky decided as he watched a single string of smoke rose up from the arm. He'd die before he let The Soldier touch one hair on their head. 

With a roar, he put his last reserve of strength into his arm and sent the magnet sailing through the air. Before the magnet had the chance to bounce off the vault wall and clatter to the floor, Bucky tore his other arm free. He flexed his flesh fingers to encourage the circulation of blood with practiced efficiency. His attention was already straying to the reinforced door.

When they'd retrofitted the vault for his use, Hydra hadn't bothered to remove most of the features since the old reinforced materials tended to stand the test of time pretty well. But they had seen it fit to replace the traditional, round door for ease of transportation. It was still made from reinforced metal, only in a more conventional rectangle shape and less thick in breadth. He didn’t know if The Soldier had copied the defense mechanism, but it was a fair guess that he’d locked the thing behind him. Bucky decided there was only one way to find out.

Taking a few steps back, Bucky squared himself up to the door, shut up the little voice in his head that told him this was a spectacularly bad idea, and ran headlong at the last barrier between himself and control over his own body. He hit the door bionic arm first, the sound of metal on metal resonating inside his skull as the door moved under the applied force and Bucky found himself tumbling face-first into a dark void. As the ground disappeared from under his feet and he started to fall, anger and bewilderment fought for prominence in his thoughts. _Had the door been open the entire time?_ _What the hell was The Soldier trying to prove?_

Then, the void swallowed him up.

Reconnecting to his body and The Soldier was like falling from a great height and slamming into the branches of trees all the way down. Only the branches were made of bone and matter and they pulled him apart in all directions until his mind molded itself to the spot reserved for it. Bucky blinked into consciousness and came face to face with…  _ himself _ ?

The Soldier was perched on the edge of a California king bed that Bucky recognized as belonging to Steve and Tony’s bedroom. Behind him, two still shapes slumbered on, unaware of the assassin lazily twirling a combat knife between his fingers only an arm’s breadth away. The blade flashed in a beam of moonlight that fell through a crack in the blinds, causing white bursts to dance across the walls and ceiling of the room. Enamoured by the spectacle, The Soldier didn’t appear to be in a hurry to get to the killing.

Uncomprehending, Bucky looked down at himself. Yes, those were his hands, arms and feet. He could feel the muscles shifting under his control, the blood pumping inside his ears, and every breath leaving and entering his lungs. He had a physical presence, but at the same time  _ not _ . This was starting to make less sense by the minute, he thought, as he returning his attention to his alter ego. 

‘Was this a fucking test?’ he asked, a mixture of anger and disbelief simmering in his gut at The Soldier’s impassive expression. He certainly didn’t seem to be set on murdering his defenseless friends anymore. If anything, his expression spoke of boredom.

‘Welcome to the Inner World, Barnes,’ he drawled, flipping the knife one last time before letting the blade rest against his knee bracer. ‘This is where I spent all my days while you’re gallivanting around with  _ these people _ .’ His tone turned derisive as he glanced back at the sleeping superheroes, but strangely enough, Bucky got the sense that his heart wasn’t in it. His eyes burned with an emotion that Bucky couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Gritting his teeth, he reigned in the harsh words that wanted to spill from his lips. Antagonizing The Soldier at this point would be meaningless before he’d managed to determine exactly why his alter ego was doing this. He needed more information. 

Perhaps The Soldier had retained the strange power to read Bucky’s thoughts, because he continued his explanation without prompting, ‘The Inner World is the only place in the entirety of our brain where we’re complete equals. Funny isn’t it, that you’ve never once been here in all the time we’ve been co-conscious. From the moment Steve reentered our lives, you just stole the show. I wondered for a long time why that was, since you’re pretty comfortable with letting me front during missions.’

It was true, Bucky realized as he mentally ran through all the occasions he’d allowed The Soldier to have direct control over their body. Those moments had always been the direct result of Bucky feeling cornered during a battle. When the adrenaline was roaring inside his veins and enemies were coming from all sides, The Soldier was an oasis of calm and efficiency. Bucky tended to get overwhelmed, while he simply didn’t allow himself to feel. More than a few missions had been spared from complete failure by his interference.

That made Bucky wonder. If not on the battlefield where The Soldier’s presence felt most natural, then where else did the man want to execute some control - for that is what it had to be, nothing else made sense - over their life? For a man who usually expressed so little emotion, it was difficult for Bucky to pinpoint where the sudden request had sprung from. Was The Soldier implying he was feeling neglected? If the atmosphere hadn’t been so tense, Bucky probably would have shaken his head in disbelief and laughed the entire thing off. And although he was by now convinced that The Soldier couldn’t actually hurt his friends from this Inner World, he couldn’t help but watch nervously as the knife was passed restlessly from flesh to metal hand. He was all too aware that The Soldier would still be capable of hurting him, though he’d never once tried to do so before this evening. 

More confused than ever, Bucky scratched the back of his head, trying to remember what his therapist taught him about internal systems. ‘Alright, let’s see if I can make sense of what you’re trying to say there. Although you’ve never once complained about how our system has run since the original Bucky and me integrated, you have become, what, dissatisfied with the current status quo?’

‘Yes,’ The Soldier replied, deadpan, eyeing him like he was an exceptionally slow idiot of a slug. ‘In the last couple of days, I have come to realize that my role as protector is insufficient to fulfill my needs. I’d like to take on a new role.’

Bucky pursed his lips, considering the implications of that request. The last big shake up their system had undergone happened during the entire HYDRA is SHIELD debacle, when Steve had miraculously managed to recover some fragments of James Buchanan Barnes, their original. He himself had been created to painstakingly glue those pieces back together until they formed a more or less cohesive whole. After that, it had been logical for him to take the wheel while The Soldier jumped in where his expertise was most useful. Since it was only the two of them, any change in role was bound to upturn their entire system. 

‘And what would that look like?’ Bucky ventured cautiously. ‘Honestly, you’re being kind of vague about what ‘needs’ you’re suddenly experiencing. I can’t in good conscience give you more time in the pilot’s seat before you’ve cleared that up.’

Clenching his jaw, The Soldier’s gaze dropped to the carpet. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, like he was struggling to resist an emotion he didn’t quite understand. ‘Didn’t you feel like a pretender when you chose to let them call you Bucky? Because I do. Every time I step out on the battlefield and Steve looks at me like all's right with the world as long as he has his Bucky by his side… That’s just one big lie, isn’t it? We have been hiding the truth about who we are for over a year and most of our so-called friends don’t suspect a thing. I have trouble believing that all the trust and affection will continue once they discover that their precious Bucky is mostly a collection of hastily glued-together fragments and two strangers have been using him to save their own hides.’

_ I am worried for our survival _ , he didn’t say, but Bucky could read between the lines. Despite his claim of not being suited for the protector role, The Soldier would always be driven to ensure their system’s continued existence, free from the control of others. It was one of the reasons why Bucky had entrusted so much of their life to him in the first few weeks after the Helicarriers. He knew that if given the opportunity, The Soldier was able to front effectively in high stress situations. The question was if that same attitude could be adapted for daily life, or if the other man’s reactions were simply too intense for the outside world. 

‘Steve would never allow others to harm us,’ Bucky said reassuringly, trying to ignore similar concerns lurking at the back of his mind. 

‘But he’d be feeling hurt and betrayed nonetheless.’

Bucky’s shoulders slumped in a long sigh. ‘Then what are we supposed to do? Either we continue to hide and delay the hurt at the risk of it being greater, or we come forward now and bite the bullet. They’re not exactly attractive prospects for our future.’

‘But it’s a change we’ll have to make sooner or later,’ The Soldier countered, his gaze sympathetic for once. ‘You’re on the verge of taking a big step for the both of us, Barnes. We owe at least one person that honesty.’

Bucky laughed bitterly. ‘Right. I should tell Pepper how fucked up in the head we are. Easy peasy.’

‘I could do the honours, if you want.’ The offer came so out of the blue that Bucky didn’t fully register its meaning for a second. Then, his head whipped up to look at the other man incredulously. 

‘ _ You _ want to be the one to tell her?’

A shrug. ‘Why not? I stand the best chance of keeping a cool head if her reaction isn’t what you’d like it to be. Plus, experience has taught me it’s sometimes better to show than tell.’ 

_ Seeing is believing _ , The Soldier’s voice resonated inside his head even though his lips stopped moving. Was it Bucky’s imagination or was the connection now opening up in two ways? He’d have to look into that later.

For now, his gut churned at the task set before them. In a way, it felt like The Soldier was giving him the easy way out by offering to be the one to tell Pepper. He had the least familiarity with her out of the two of them, but Bucky wondered if the sudden change in attitude would only serve to confuse her further. On the other hand, he’d need to begin trusting The Soldier’s capabilities, if this arrangement was ever going to function in the outside world. A decision needed to be made, preferably tonight, before Bucky could convince himself that it was a silly option to even bother considering.

‘When I was born, I believed I could make our lives simpler by just taking on the mantle of Bucky like nothing had changed since that fall from the train, but it seems like I’ve been deluding myself,’ he mused aloud as The Soldier listened intently, hands loosely clasped around his comfort knife. ‘The truth is that I have not yet figured out who I’m supposed to be either, and I’m uncertain if letting you front more would be conducive to that.’

‘If we don’t give it a proper chance, we’ll never know. Maybe the contrast will throw some things into perspective and it’ll turn out to be exactly what you needed all along.’

A pensive silence descended over the Inner World as Bucky considered his counterpart. There rested no guile in The Soldier’s words, no devious undertone to trick Bucky into agreeing with his point of view, he was merely wondering aloud just the same as him. Dimly, Bucky began to realize he’d already come to a decision.

‘Alright, if you’re so keen on fronting more, we’d better start with a test run,’ he announced, hopefully more calm than he felt. ‘I assume there’s still a couple hours left of the night, so I’m going to give you some time to find your feet without too much outside interference. Afterwards, we can reconvene and work out most of the practical details. What do you say?’

The Soldier nodded solemnly and Bucky found himself wondering if the man was elated at the prospect of spending more time in the outside world or if he was just as big a bundle of nerves as Bucky himself. It was almost funny how two men who were supposed to have nearly a century of life experience under their belt, could feel so inadequate at solving their own problems. It made it the areas where they lacked the input of the original Bucky all the more obvious. He had actually lived a life, albeit a regrettably short one. They were merely specters shaped to fulfill a purpose who still needed to learn what it meant to be a functioning human being. 

_ ‘One person is a lot for one person to be _ ,’ Bucky quoted, recalling a song his therapist had sent him a few months ago, which reminded him… ‘Shouldn’t we make this easier on ourselves by picking out new names, I mean, if differentiating ourselves from Bucky is the goal, I should stop calling myself that. And “The Soldier” is not exactly a name that endears familiarity.’

The Soldier huffed, giving him a look that was full of amusement. ‘You already have one, James.’

‘Oh. I guess I do,’ Bucky, no  _ James _ , said, half-surprised that he hadn’t thought of it himself. He did like it when Pepper called him that and it was officially their legal name… ‘What about you, then?’

The Soldier cocked his head to the side, thoughtful. ‘I am Winter.’

_ Of course you are.  _ James shook his head in mirth. ‘It suits you.’

For a long moment, they just stared at each other, smiles curling at their lips, two men reborn. Then Winter very deliberately sheathed his combat knife in his thigh holster and sat up expectantly. 

‘Shall I get on with it?’

_ Please do, or we’ll just cower here for all eternity.  _ ‘Good luck.’

Winter would liken the act of transitioning from the Inner World to having somebody violently yank at the end of a rope tied to your gut. As he mentally lurched forward, the trappings of their body would settle around him like a blanket of muscle and sinew and he’d open his eyes to discover he hadn’t moved a centimetre out of position. He still sat cross-legged at the foot of Stark’s ridiculously big bed. Soft snoring betrayed that Stark and Rogers had not been disturbed from their sleep by his presence, which just proved to Winter that superheroes sucked at even the most basic of survival skills. Hadn’t Rogers thrown himself headfirst from a low-flying plane last week?  _ Idiot. _

Shaking his head in dismay, Winter uncrossed his legs and shook them loose until the flow of blood through both limbs was restored. The confrontation with James had taken longer than he’d liked, but he had a few solid hours left yet to convince the other that this was the right path forward. And he had the perfect plan for where he could start, so he’d better get a crack on.

With one last exasperated look back at the slumbering couple, Winter padded out of their bedroom and down the hallway on bare feet. The sensation of the chilly floor tile pressing against his soles banished the last dregs of sleep and confusion out of his mind. By the time he reached the living room, he felt more grounded in their body. He quickly checked how James was doing inside the Inner World, but the other man seemed to be drifting in and out of focus, unused to being outside the driver’s seat. Winter couldn’t blame him, even with the serum supporting them, sustained sleep-deprivation and successive switches took a while to recover from. Maybe he should thank Miss Potts for facilitating their reconnection once he’d managed to track her down.

Speaking of. ‘Jarvis, are you there?’ he asked, fully expecting the AI to ignore his summons. He waited until the slight echo of his voice had died away before giving up on him. Apparently, the AI only felt like helping him when he was engaging in unhealthy or self-destructive behaviour during the nighttime. It was annoying to say the least.

‘Fine,’ he told the empty room, turning to leave. ‘I’ll just find Miss Potts myself then.’ He had a last known location to go by, after all. Without further ado, he sauntered over to the elevator bay and pressed the button for the Tower gym. Pepper would most likely not be training down there anymore, but that wasn’t the purpose of his visit. As the elevator moved down, Winter considered the woman that his alter had latched onto.

In all honesty, the show of antagonism towards her that he'd displayed in the Inner World had been nothing more than a performance. Like James had correctly guessed, Winter had intended the encounter to function as a kind of test. Since they'd become full members of the Avengers, it had become abundantly clear to Winter that hiding in a dead man's shadow was only a temporary solution. So, he'd started to brainstorm ways in which he'd be able to get the more reluctant alter to emerge from his shell and finally realize he was more than the sum of some other man's parts. Sure, his tactics might have been excessive from an outsider’s point of view, but Winter had known beforehand that he'd need to make his rebellion feel as shocking and convincing as possible in hopes of bringing James face to face with the connections he'd made by his own merit. They might have sprung from Bucky's shattered psyche, but they'd become more than cheap imitations. They had to become their own men now. Winter felt like James had finally realized that too with the right inspiration.

And what an inspiration Pepper Potts was. Even with his limited exposure to people outside of the team, Winter could recognize that she was something special. The amount of loyalty and patience she showed to Stark alone was admirable. Hydra would have loved that kind of dedication on their side, which made it all the more relieving that they hadn't managed to lay a finger on her yet. And if they'd try to do so now, well, he was certain James would have a word or two to say about that. Winter was half-tempted to join the massacre himself, since he had to admit that Pepper Potts had been instrumental in getting the both of them this far. James might not have realized it himself, but his attachment to her had been what pulled him through Winter's trial. Something tugged painfully inside his chest at the thought that he might never find a similar connection, which was why he had to ensure that James at least got to enjoy that happiness for a while longer, even if that meant Winter would have to step outside his comfort zone.

When the elevator arrived at the training floor with a soft ding, Winter had expected to find a long-since empty gym and maybe a few vague traces left by its last occupant, but he immediately noticed there was still light coming from further up the corridor that ended in the firing range. The soft hum of a arc generator revealed that a simulation was being run as he crept closer to the unknown night owl. Curious, he snuck into the firing range’s viewing bay on silent feet.

If James’ rampant insomnia should have taught Winter anything, it was that Pepper kept odd hours, so it shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did to see her lithe frame spin into view, Iron Man gauntlet poised at the ready. The mini bots that Stark had programmed for target practice soon swarmed after her in droves, making an emotion that suspiciously felt like panic flare up in Winter’s chest. His fingers itched for one of the guns he usually kept on his person, but those had been locked away in the armoury after the last mission. Without his rifle, he’d be dead weight in a target practice simulation. 

Luckily, Pepper seemed more than able to handle herself, shooting down bot after bot while darting and ducking between cover. She looked like a prima ballerina in the midst of her crowning performance. It was breathtaking and, honestly, devastatingly attractive.

Until that very moment Winter had never quite understood what attracted James to the CEO, but as a stab of desire shot straight down his spine to his cock, he felt a similar fascination take root in his mind. This was a dance that Winter wanted to take part in with every fiber of his being. He suddenly felt kind of hot, like he was running a temperature, and when he pressed his metal hand against the burning skin, he realized he must be blushing. 

Huh. He’d never done that before.

_ She’s got you, man _ , James’ smug voice flitted through their connection. Winter could practically see him grinning inside the Inner World.  _ Winter’s got a crush! _

A little starstruck, Winter’s feet remained nailed to the floor as the simulation continued to unfold at the other side of the viewing box window. A thin sheen of sweat began to cover Pepper’s skin as the battle progressed, giving her body the appearance of a writhing flame as it reflected the ceiling lights. With every twist and turn her body turned into a hypnotizing spectacle of light and fire, making even James fall silent in awe. Then, the pattern broke and in one fell swoop a trail of fire blazed free from her gauntlet-free hand exploding the last three training bots in a shower of sparks. Their metal husks hit the floor with a loud clang.

Dumbfounded, Winter and James both watched as trails of smoke rose up from sparking circuitry, trying to process what he’d just witnessed. The fire had definitely not originated from the Iron Man gauntlet, unless Stark had installed a flamethrower feature while neglecting to inform anyone else. But no, they’d seen the flames sprout from her bare hand, fingers twisting in the air to give them a shape and a course. There was no other possible explanation than that she’d created them by herself. Pepper Potts was an enhanced individual. 

Winter felt the distinct need to sit down as, suddenly, a lot of odd details fell into place. The untraceable smell of smoke in the restaurant, the unnatural warmth of her skin and body even in the cold, her midnight snacking, and the way she looked fresh like daisy after barely catching a wink of sleep… Connected by a single show of supernatural force, all these loose pieces of evidence started to make sense. Winter didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Pepper Potts was damn strong. 

_ Pepper Potts is radiant,  _ James added with stars in his eyes.

Inside the training room, the woman in question remained unaware of the sentiments she’d awakened in him with that revelation. She calmly stepped aside as cleaning bots rolled into the center of the training area to clear away the sad remains of their compatriots. Wiping some of the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, Pepper slowly turned in a circle to examine the results of hard work. Inevitably, her gaze swept over to the viewing box and met his. He’d never seen someone go from self-satisfied to anxious in the matter of a second, but her blanching face left little to the imagination about how her mood turned in that moment.

Before he’d made the conscious decision to go comfort her, Winter’s feet were carrying him to the door that stood between the two of them. He caught her right as she stepped outside, expression harried. Words started to leave both their mouths in a rush.

‘I’m so sorry. I should have told you--’ 

‘Miss Potts, it’s alright. I need to also--’

They both fell silent, staring nervously at the other as they negotiated the unspoken rules of who should go first. Winter was almost sure he had to step forward and say something, anything really to set this situation to rights, but every word that sprung to mind felt lacking in intensity or purpose. This was why he didn’t do emotions. Frankly, he wasn’t good at them, and he’d always had James for that anyway. Sadly, his alter wasn’t spouting any good advice, too busy with anxiously biting his nails as he spectatored their first meeting.

Helplessly, he extended a hand - the flesh one - towards Pepper, hoping she’d view it as the gesture of acceptance it was. Trembling, her hand shot out across the distance and closed around his, squeezing tight. Not until he clasped it in turn with his metal hand, did she seem to overcome the panic that raced through her.

Achingly slow, the hint of terror receded from her expression and was replaced with confusion. Her brow furrowed slightly as she searched his eyes for something Winter just knew she wouldn’t find.

When she spoke her voice wavered, unsure. ‘You’re not James.’ It wasn’t a question, merely an observation and Winter was hit by just how innately perceptive she was. She managed to pick out the fine details so swiftly that he wondered why James had ever thought it possible to deceive her. No wonder Stark had all the confidence in the world she’d guide his company to new heights of success. She had to be a killer in the boardroom, even if she looked a little like a spooked animal at the moment. 

_ How does she just know?  _ James breathed in wonder, reaching out with ghost fingers to share in the physical feedback. He seemed to be more entranced by her than ever before.

Hoping to not scare Pepper off any further, lest her boyfriend eat him raw later, Winter loosened his grip, signalling that she could retract her hand if she wanted to and he wouldn’t follow. 

‘How can you tell?’ he asked, more out of curiosity than was perhaps sensible in a tense situation like this, but hey, nobody ever intended him to become a hostage negotiator. 

Pepper did not pull her hand back, but something definitely shifted in her expression. ‘The men I’ve held hands with, don’t tend to call me “Miss Potts” before or afterwards,’ she said dryly. ‘And your posture’s different. You hold yourself taller, almost stiffly.’

Stunned, he cocked his head to the side. That made an awful lot of sense. ‘Guess I never spent enough time fronting to notice that. Thank you for telling us.’

Pepper’s eyes widened in understanding. ‘You have DID?’ By now, he shouldn’t be surprised that she knew her mental health lingo. She’d probably spent a fair amount of time researching the various disorders Stark coped with throughout the years.

‘We do. Though there’s only two of us,’ he clarified, trying not to focus on how she was slowly inching towards him. He hadn’t quite been prepared for how titillating physical proximity could be. ‘You’re already familiar with James. My name is Winter.’

‘You’re The Soldier. The one that Tony told me about,’ Pepper mused before visibly collecting herself. ‘I’m sorry, that’s rude. I’m very pleased to meet you, Winter.’

‘I am… a _ version _ of him,’ he hedged, uncomfortable at being tied too tightly to the shadow of an existence he’d lived under other people’s control. The assassination of Howard and Maria Stark did not weigh as heavily on his conscience as it did James’, but neither was he jonesing to take full credit. ‘I have endeavoured to put those decades I spent brainwashed behind me. For both our good.’

Pepper shook her head softly, but not in a disbelieving manner. ‘How you speak and act, I can see you’re not the boogeyman that the Winter Soldier is painted to be.’ She stepped closer so the tips of her shoes bumped against his and she had to crane her neck to meet his eyes. Shaking her free hand until the Iron Man gauntlet retracted into a simple bangle, she placed it on top of his in a pile-up of mutual support. The sensors in his arm put her bodily temperature at a toasty forty degrees celsius. How had James managed to overlook that?

‘I suppose we’re both full of surprises,’ he decided, forcing his mouth to shape the best attempt at a smile he had on offer. Pepper’s lips twitched oddly in response, like she was trying to contain her amusement in order not to offend him. It felt a little like victory on his part. Against his better judgement, he pushed the advantage. 

‘If you don’t mind me saying, that move you pulled at the end of the simulation was perhaps one of the most impressive things I’ve seen in my life. How did you learn to control fire that way?’

Lashes fluttering nervously, she bit her bottom lip. ‘A lot of practice mostly... ’ she began evasively before shaking her head in disappointment and starting over. ‘I mean, I haven’t possessed these powers for very long, only for the last two years or so. I didn’t exactly gain them under the best circumstances either, so I tend to not bring them up with people that weren’t there.’

Winter tamped down the urge to ask her what happened. From the sound of it, her power-up experience had to have been traumatic, not a conscious decision she’d made like Stark or Rogers. In that respect they were well-matched, both thrust into powers they had never thought to wish for, though he hoped that Pepper hadn’t been forced to use her powers for similar evil.

She seemed to sense the direction his thoughts were wandering in, running her fingers across his metal skin reassuringly. ‘I only ever killed one man on purpose,’ she said, haltingly. ‘He was the one who did this to me, but I still felt awful afterwards, and  _ sick _ . Tony and I decided to keep my powers, “Extremis” we call them, secret, so I’d never have to do that again unless it was by my own choice.’ At the back of his brain, James cursed loudly, damning a dead man to hell.

Winter filed the name ‘Extremis’ away for later research and nodded encouragingly in turn. ‘I’m glad you were able to decide that for yourself.’

Her lips curled up at the corners. ‘Me too. I could show you how it works.’

Excitement at seeing her in action again, Winter heard himself stammering, ‘I-I would like that, but only if you’re comfortable.’

Her smile grew surer. ‘Trust me. It’s the least I could do after what you and James have shared with me.’ Then, pulling carefully at their entangled hands, she drew him back into the simulation room. Winter found it impossible not to follow her. 

In the next hour she demonstrated what Extremis had gifted her with. Strength, agility, endurance and a fire that burned brighter than any flame by rights should. Before long, Winter was drawn into her performance, sharing his own talents and knowledge. At the end of the night, she had him on his back, panting, as she leaned over him with the most brilliant smile. 

‘That’s all you got, old man?’

‘A man has to keep an ace or two up his sleeve,’ Winter replied, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. James was curled up languidly under his skin, purring like a damn house cat.

Pepper’s laugh was loud and joyful. ‘I trust you’ll show me all the moves next time we have a couple hours to spare.’ Eyes darkening, she let her hand rest on his chest for just a moment to long to be casual, and Winter felt that odd sense of premonition again, like he was standing at a fork in the road and he only needed to take one brave step to find that what he’d been looking for. 

‘We don’t have to make it a long wait. What about tomorrow night?’ he suggested, thinking of the long drag the Gala would no doubt turn out to be. Having somebody to work that nervous energy off with for a change would be nice. 

Tucking a strand of hair behind her hair, Pepper’s grin turned sly. ‘Are you asking me out to the Gala, Winter?’ 

Winter blinked, stunned at her forwardness. Well, it had not precisely been the goal he’d set out to accomplish, but when she put it like that… Yeah, why wasn’t he asking her to be his date? He didn’t even need to consult James up to know the plan would have his full approval. The man was vibrating all over the place in approval.

Recalling the behaviour of some of the heroes from Natasha’s favourite romance novels, Winter inclined his head awkwardly and said: ‘Would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the Maria Stark Foundation Gala tomorrow, Miss Potts?’

Eyes glinting with mischief, Pepper pretended to scratch her chin in thought. ‘If it means I get to know more about the both of you, I’d be an idiot to say no. And I do like to think that I have a good head on my shoulders…’

His heart felt like it was trying to rip itself free from his body by how hard it started pounding. ‘Is that a yes?’

Lightning fast, she ducked down to press a kiss against his cheek. ‘It’s a definite yes.’

_ We’re the luckiest men alive, Winter. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter, please consider leaving a comment or kudos.


	8. Closeness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now for a chapter on a lighter note. There's plenty of wholesomeness in here.

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/98/fb/dI9iHXm1_o.jpg)

*********************

The sun rose above the New York skyline while Pepper prepared herself to face a new day. The faint sound of the shower running formed the perfect backdrop to the breathtaking play of sunlight on layers of mist and smog, turning the sky to pretty pinks, oranges and purples. Winter would have gladly spent an eternity watching how the fiery ball gradually returned life to the city back, though it would not have been without a sense of guilt.

With every minute of daylight he lingered, he further broke his promise to return control over their shared body to James. As far as he could tell, his alter was adjusting to the Inner World at a rapid pace, only occasionally dropping back into a sleepwalker state. Mostly he acted wide awake, eagerly seeking out outside stimuli through their connection and delivering teasing commentary on whatever Winter got up to. The assassin recalled him acting similarly when he’d slowly come into existence during their last days under Hydra’s control. Thinking back, he was pretty sure that James had consistently been the one fronting after they jumped from the helicarrier to save Rogers’ self-sacrificing ass. No wonder he’d had trouble coming to terms with being on the other side of their relationship. 

On a more positive note, James’ unfamiliarity with the workings of the Inner World did give Winter a bit of leeway when it came to stretching out his fronting timeslot. And he’d probably not get into too much trouble when that stolen time was spent with the woman that could get his counterpart to blush at the drop of a hat. (And made  _ him _ squirm, in the most strangely delightful way.) To be honest, James’d better be fucking grateful that he’d kept it together enough to net them a date with her.

Almost as if she’d sensed that his thoughts kept drifting towards her, the soft sound of padding feet announced Pepper’s return from the shower. She was preceded by a jasmine-scented cloud that was meant to mask the burning smell of Extremis. She snaked her arms around his shoulders without hesitation and went up on her tippy toes to peek over his shoulder. 

‘Anyone ever tell you that you look ten times more dreamy when you’re brooding?’ The teasing lilt of her voice shouldn’t be so enchanting, but Winter felt himself melt back into her embrace, either way. Maybe it was unnatural to be so at ease in the arms of a woman who’d thrown you to the ground multiple times without breaking a sweat, but the relief at not having to walk on eggshells for once far outweighed the embarrassment. If anything, he drew an immense amount of comfort from the fact that Pepper could easily overpower him if she wanted to. 

‘Did you read that in a magazine somewhere?’ he asked, bringing up his metal hand to stroke the underside of her arm where he’d discovered she was slightly ticklish. ‘Because that observation has teenage thirst written all over it.’ 

She headbutted him on the back in retaliation, but didn’t withdraw her arms. ‘For your interest, women and men of all ages are susceptible to the dreamy factor, not just teens, and you definitely fit the stereotype. You’re a regular Mr. Darcy.’

Winter snorted at the mental image of him in period costume, emerging soaking-wet from a lake. ‘Spare the flirting for James. His ego needs the boost more than mine does.’

She shook her head where it rested against his shoulder. ‘Nah. You need it just as much.’ 

_ What a woman _ , Winter almost sighed wistfully, until he remembered that he actually had a front seat on a date with her that night, well, James had. Perhaps if it went well, she’d consider going on one with him as well. Going by the way she was cradling him gently in her arms, she’d not be too resistant towards the idea. That reminded him…

‘You should continue getting ready for your meeting. James will be heartbroken if you wind up being held hostage by the board of investors until the start of the Gala. He’s the romantic type, so he’ll want to pick you up, flowers and all.’

‘Spoilsport!’ Pepper’s laugh shook them both. ‘How am I going to act surprised, now?’

He carefully disentangled himself from her arms, and turned to look her in the eye. ‘I’m sure James will add enough of his own flair to make it a fresh experience.’

Pepper’s smile was soft around the edges. ‘I think so too.’ Telegraphing her movements, she leaned in to plant a light kiss on the tip of his nose. ‘Remember to have fun tonight, yeah?’

Feeling distinctly weak in the knees, Winter nodded. ‘I will try my best.’

Then, with a smile that was pure mischief, she left him to find an outfit that was more appropriate for the boardroom than a short bathrobe. As Winter caught his eyes lingering on the exposed curve of her legs and thighs, he had to admit that he might be a little bit screwed as well.

_ Or a lot. _

Originally, he’d meant to return to the privacy of his apartment to cede control back to James once Pepper had left for her morning meeting. Especially since he could feel his alter stirring inside the Inner World, testing its invisible boundaries. But fate interfered in the shape of one zombified Tony Stark. The billionaire emerged out of the bedroom in a halting shuffle that would not have looked amiss in an episode of The Walking Dead and froze when he caught sight of Winter lurking by the large bay of windows.

‘Huh,’ he said, eloquently. ‘You have suspiciously good timing, Bucky. I was just dreaming about you.’ Winter had to keep himself from taking a step back at hearing that name. Right, Stark thought he was talking to James. He didn’t even have an inkling about Winter’s continued consciousness outside of mission parametres.

James perked up even further at hearing the familiar moniker and prodded him to reply instead of coming out himself.  _ Come on, talking to a sleepy Tony is an excellent way to test if the differences between us are very obvious.  _

Already dreading the charade, Winter forced the corners of his mouth up in an approximation of a smile. ‘Not the kind of dream that would make Steve want to deck me, hopefully.’

‘No, nothing of the sort,’ Stark blinked sluggishly, cocking his head to the side as if he was solving a complicated equation. As the silence between them dragged on, Winter began to feel like those increasingly alert eyes were boring into his skull, searching for answers to a question only he got the gist of. James performed the equivalent of nervous jig inside their head.

‘You need to work on the smile,’ Stark remarked suddenly, confusing Winter with the non-sequitur. He slowly shuffled towards the open kitchen and, presumably, the sweet relief of caffeine.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Winter felt the offending smile slipping as a cold tingle arced through his spine. It took him a long second to place the sensation as caused by panic. 

Involuntarily responding to Winter's growing discomfort, James wriggled himself into the mental co-pilot seat. His flesh hand curled around Winter's metal wrist in warning.  _ He suspects something,  _ the alter whispered conspiratorially into his ear. _ If he becomes too much for you to bear, tap me in.  _

_ I can handle him on my own,  _ Winter hissed back, trying his best to push past the flare of doubt. He’d be damned if he was going to start showing weakness in the face of one superhero that hadn’t even bothered to put on his suit.

James' eyes rolled in exasperation. _ But you shouldn't feel obligated to do it on your own. We're working together now, right? _

As their mental conversation unfolded, Stark regarded them over the kitchen counter, briefly looking away to press the appropriate buttons on the coffee machine. ‘Only that most of the Avengers are not as blind as you seem to think we are. We all have decent sets of eyes in our skulls and crafty brains to back them up. Meaning, I can tell the difference between mission-you and downtime-you.’ James cursed softly next to him, crowding into his space as if trying to shield him. Winter pushed him away with an irritated huff. 

Undeterred by the sight of Winter’s clenching his fists, Stark emerged from behind the counter and met his gaze fearlessly. ‘And even though I don’t precisely know what’s up with that, I can recognize somebody putting on a performance from a mile away. So, yes, your smile looks like shit.’

If the initial inkling of panic had felt like an annoying itch between his shoulder blades at first, it now spread like a wildfire through his entire body. Discomfited, he took a step back and another, but Stark seemed to anticipate his moves effortlessly. Winter frantically wondered if he looked like that sometimes: a hunter on the prowl, waiting for the ideal moment to pounce. 

Inside, James’ grip stubbornly tightened on his wrist, attempting to keep him from retreating any further.  _ Why are you running? It’s only Tony. _

And wasn’t that just the problem. 

Suddenly agonizingly aware of the fact that not a single bone in his body wanted to have a conversation about identity with Tony Stark of all people - the man he’d robbed of his parents and delivered into the hands of a grinning, cigar-smoking devil - Winter retreated even further. He nearly tripped backwards over the low coffee table in his haste to put some distance between him and the approaching genius, but thankfully managed to regain his balance.

Stark paused in his pursuit and let out a surprised sound. ‘You’re really not up for personal interaction yet, huh? Or is it just me that’s throwing you off?’ He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the master bedroom. ‘I can grab my coffee and crawl back into bed with Steve if you need some time to do... whatever frosty snowmen do to chill out.’

‘That’s not necessary,’ Winter choked out, refusing to let his anxiety manifest itself in his expression. From the quiet scoff that got him, he could tell he was failing miserably. 

Stark held up his hands and took a step back in a show of good faith. There was no homing bracelet for the suit clasped around his wrist. ‘Look here, you don’t have to act the tough guy here, Bucky.’

‘Winter,’ he corrected almost instinctively, immediately wanting to bite his own tongue for the outburst. By contrast, he could feel James proud smile light up their inner world like a beam of sunlight. 

‘Winter,’ Stark repeated amiably. ‘That’s not a very creative name, but I’ll take it. Anybody else in that head of yours I shouldn’t be calling ‘Bucky’?’

He hesitated a second, debating if he should leave the possible existence of a Bucky-persona up for interpretation, but James delivered a quick jab to his ribs, urging him on. 

‘There’s only James and myself,’ he settled on, shooting a glare at his alter.  _ Stop that. _

James didn’t even bother responding, attention firmly fixed on Stark as the billionaire processed the news that the man he’d started calling his friend was actually a fancy collage.

If Stark was stumped by that revelation, he managed to conceal it very well. ‘Okay, that’s going to take a while to wrap my brain around, but I’ll try not to let another ‘Bucky’ leave my mouth.’ He pursed his lips in thought. ‘Should I tell Steve? Or do you want that honour?’

‘James will want to talk with him,’ Winter said, not even needing to see James enthusiastically nodding to know his alter was determined to handle that himself. ‘They’re…  _ close _ .’ James practically purred in satisfaction as the assassin finally acknowledged that one of their relationships had merit.

‘I bet if you asked Steve, he’d call himself ‘close’ to you too,’ Stark said, casually strolling back around the counter as the coffee machine beeped. ‘He spent a good two years chasing your shadow across the world, after all. He knows who you are, how you think, even if he occasionally has trouble differentiating between you and the original Bucky.’

As the distance between them grew, Winter allowed himself to relax. ‘He’s definitely stubborn enough to believe so,’ he sighed in grudging admiration of the other super soldier’s resolute trust in him.

‘Isn’t he just?’ Stark smiled dreamily as he took his first sip of morning coffee. 

Winter, who didn’t particularly want to discover which sordid memory had sparked that reaction, grunted noncommittally. Just like James he preferred to restrict his knowledge of Rogers’ private escapades to a strictly need to know basis. 

Stark didn’t seem to notice, completely absorbed in his caffeine intake as he happily slurped up the dark brew. ‘And Stevie was so very sad, you know, when you refused to hug him after that first mission. He looked like somebody had kicked his puppy all week, and I had to try very hard to put a smile back on his face.’

Sensing that Stark was about to veer into dangerous territory again, Winter cleared his throat loudly. ‘Talking of smiles, why did mine bother you so much?’

‘Why wouldn’t it?’ Stark said, eyes gleaming at the opening for a bit of teasing. ‘It was painfully stiff and awkward, not at all like how you would greet a friend in the morning. You’re like the wolf in Red Riding Hood, too much teeth and too little sheepskin.’

‘Now you’re mixing your metaphors.’

Stark shrugged. ‘Am I? Doesn’t really matter. What matters is that your smile needs work if you want to keep this multiple personalities thing a secret from the public. The press has been watching us like hawks for signs of superhero fatigue and PTSD already. If you’re suddenly the one handling post-mission interviews instead of Buc-’ he caught himself just in time, ‘James, I mean, then that’s going to raise all these questions that I don’t think either of you are ready to answer.’

Nodding in agreement, Winter guardedly inched closer to the kitchen counter that Stark was leaning against. ‘Any tips then for tonight’s gala?’ he asked, thinking ahead to the many eyes and cameras that would be fixed on the VIP guests. James was going to be put through the wringer.

Stark’s brow furrowed. ‘You planning on making an appearance?’

‘Not if I can help it.’ His stomach curdled at having to fake being cheerful in front of a bunch of tabloid reporters, who were hungry for the next piece of quality gossip. ‘James will be running the show again if he figures out how to return to the pilot seat some time this half of the century.’

A sharp pain ricocheted through his skull as James abruptly drove an elbow into his midriff, causing him to double over both mentally and physically. His hand shot out to grab hold of the marble countertop, which cracked precariously under his vice grip.

_ Want to test how quick of a student I am?  _ James grinned, unrepentant, as he proceeded to drag him to the floor in a strange mix between a hug and a tackle. All of the confused fatigue of the Inner World seemed to have drained out of James as he sought a gap in Winter’s control through which he could become co-conscious.

Stark -  _ no, Tony _ \- no, Stark - cursed and nearly dropped his coffee in his haste to race around the counter to support Winter -  _ no, James _ \- no, Winter.

‘He’s figuring it out,’ Winter groaned, feeling himself getting gradually displaced from his metaphorical pilot’s seat by James’ expanding presence. ‘Remind me never to challenge him to a fronting battle again.’

Stark - _ no, Tony _ \- grimaced as his hands fluttered helplessly around their broad frame, probably afraid to make it worse by touching them. ‘Seriously, that’s… nightmare fuel, Winter. If I don’t see you again before the gala, remember to just maintain your resting bitch face. That’s all the rage among the starlets these days, you’ll fit right in.’

‘Noted,’ Winter choked out before submitting himself to the mental steamroller that was James. The alter gasped as the dissociative shift to fronting reconnected him with all the senses that were dulled in the Inner World. He immediately noticed how his muscles seemed stiff from over-usage, like he’d been going a few rounds with a bulldozer during the night. 

_ Hey, I got you a date with the woman of your dreams, arse _ , came the dazed reply as Winter recovered from being ousted so brusquely.  _ We’re going to have to work on our shifting coordination. I refuse to be sat on every single time you want to get behind the wheel. _

_ Good plan _ , James thought as he experimentally relaxed his deathgrip on the countertop to see if his legs would support him. His knees were a bit wobbly, he discovered, but they appeared to hold him up fine. 

He cracked an exhausted grin at Tony. ‘Surprise?’

The billionaire promptly smacked him on the shoulder. ‘That was the lousiest surprise ever, Snowflake. Go pull that shit on Steve. He can stand to have a heart attack or two.’

Starting to feel pretty remorseful about scaring his friend, James righted himself and slung an arm around Tony’s waist, drawing him in for a hug. ‘Thanks,’ he muttered into his ear.

‘For what?’ Tony asked, still put-out.

‘For being a good friend.’  _ And accepting us as we are. _

The genius melted into the embrace with a sigh. ‘Oh Snowflake, like there was ever any other option.’ He softly patted James’ back. ‘But seriously, go use those heartstopping charms on Steve. He’s been wanting to discuss Winter with you for months.’

A little nervous flutter went through him. ‘Won’t Steve hate him?’

Tony drew back from the hug, meeting his gaze dead-on. ‘Of course not. In the time you two have spent living and fighting alongside us, you have shown the team nothing but care and friendship. That deserves all the patience and respect we had to offer.’ His expression lightened a tad. ‘And you’ll always have one of the most critically acclaimed bromances to fall back on. I’m pretty sure that’s programmed into Steve’s brain for life.’

‘Stubborn as a mule,’ James affirmed, unable to keep his lips from curling upwards at the distant memory of the forty-three kilograms of pure fighter’s spirit that had been crazy enough to follow him into an active war zone, getting experimented on in the process. It made him strangely sad that he couldn’t quite recall how he’d earned that special brand of loyalty.

‘Go talk to him,’ Tony encouraged him, leaning up to press a friendly kiss to his temple. ‘He won’t turn his back on either of you.’

‘Alright,’ James muttered under his breath, trying to convince himself it might not be so bad to ‘reveal’ a secret that could hardly be considered secret after what Tony had told him. He released the genius from his embrace and shook out his shoulders. ‘I can do this.’

_ I’m an idiot _ , James thought as he stared down at his best friend, who’d miraculously managed to stay asleep during all the commotion in the kitchen. He was an idiot who’d fooled himself into thinking he could do this.

Steve himself wasn’t making it any easier; he was the picture of perfect innocence as he drooled on his pillow. James didn’t want to ruin that, didn’t want to corrupt Steve’s dreams with his troubles and fears, didn’t want to fill his veins up with black poison. 

Suddenly, it was Winter’s turn to be the supportive alter. He didn’t touch him in comfort, that wasn’t his style, but James could feel his presence loom behind him, steady like a rock.  _ We’ve come this far, might as well take the plunge. _

He was right. Hesitation would win them nothing in the grand scheme of things. If James and Winter were to move forward in their lives, Steve had more right to know them than anyone else on the team. He’d stood by their side when nobody else would, after all. 

_ Until the end of the line, _ James breathed, sensing the faint imprint of James Buchanan Barnes ripple with the power behind those words. A memory came to him then, unbidden, but vibrant and colourful like he’d only just lived through it yesterday, even though there was almost a century separating this incarnation of James from that moment.

It was a memory of their first apartment, where they’d laughed, eaten and slept in cramped rooms barely bigger than broom closets, and considered themselves lucky to even be alive to enjoy the small comforts of a place to call their own. That winter had been harsh, unforgiving in its taking of human life - Sarah choking on the blood and phlegm in her lungs while Steve drifted between bouts of pneumonia - and Bucky had spent every single free hour of the day at their bedsides, providing soup and blankets and all the affection he could carry in his heart. Sarah he hadn’t been able to save, but Steve had pulled through by the skin of his teeth and Bucky had struggled with sorting out the double emotions of relief and grief coursing through his veins. 

James got this very clear image of a petite Steve, brow sweaty as the fever finally released his body from its chokehold, lying in the narrow bed they sometimes shared. Back then, he’d crawled under the sheets and curled around his friend until his shivering abated and he drifted into a more restful kind of sleep. The low rattle of Steve’s breath had been all the solace he’d needed in that moment. Deep down, past all the exhaustion and heartache, Bucky had been intensely happy to have his friend at his side. James wanted to feel that too… 

With the tender familiarity of the fleeting memory urging him forward, he snuck around to the empty side of the bed and lowered himself onto the mattress, which dipped slightly beneath his weight. Careful so as not to wake Steve up, he slid closer to the slumbering super soldier and considered the differences between him and the brittle young man he’d taken into his arms. 

Obviously, Steve was a lot bigger now, all health concerns purged from his record by the serum, but James could still pinpoint some physical traits that had remained curiously unchanged. Such as the strong pronounced nose and jawline, and the way in which his long, blond lashes fanned across his cheeks. Bucky had secretly envied him for those eyelashes and how he could endear himself to girls with naught but a single flutter of them. Steve hadn’t seen it like that, of course. He’d only seen their pity and not their admiration for his spirit. James sincerely hoped Stark had made him see that there was more to being loved than having a body that was pleasing from an aesthetic viewpoint. That he’d been worthy of all the love and acceptance in the world long before he’d submitted himself to Erskine’s procedure.

Caught up in the fragmentary sensation of a cold nose and toes pressing against his skin, James almost missed the small furrow growing on Steve's brow as he started to wake up. In a matter of seconds he transformed from the naive, idealistic young man Bucky had grown up with into the battle-hardened soldier, alert and ready to take down any threat.

James snorted at the abrupt change. 'Your reaction time is abysmal, punk,' he remarked, teasingly booping Steve's nose. 'If I'd been a supervillain set on wearing your flawless skin as a party outfit, you'd have already been flayed by the time you woke up.'

Burying his face in his pillow, Steve groaned. 'That's not the kind of imagery I wanted to wake up to, Buck.'

James suppressed a wince at the name, but played along. 'You know me, I'm always pulling jerk moves.'

Miffed, Steve peeked at him with one eye. 'What the fuck are you doing in my bed anyway, and where's Tony?'

'What is kind of good morning to your old pal is that?' James pressed a hand against his chest, mock-hurt. ‘And I’m here with full permission from your sweetheart, by the way. He was dying to get me into bed with you.’

‘Tony really needs to lay off the caffeine if the withdrawal is compromising his judgement this badly.’

‘Then you’d never get him out of bed.’

Steve grinned crookedly. ‘Maybe that’s the goal.’

‘Shut up.’ Reaching above him, James grabbed one of the spare pillows and smacked it straight into the other super soldier’s face. 

Steve fell back onto his stomach with a loud ‘oof’, where he let out a theatrical moan. ‘You’re such a jerk.’

A warm tingle spread through James at their strange brand of affection. It gave him just enough courage to slide closer and wrap an arm around Steve’s broad frame, who returned his half-embrace with an air of confusion that swiftly turned to concern as James buried his face into his shoulder and let out a shuddering breath.

‘We need to talk,’ James said, echoing the beginning of thousands of other painful conversations taking place around the globe. If only he were doing something so mundane as breaking up. That he’d had plenty of experience with, at least.

‘That doesn’t sound good.’ Steve rolled onto his side, so he could run a hand through the back of James’ hair. He’d picked up the habit during the time James spent in deprogramming in order to help soothe his migraines. It never failed to settle the sick churning of the older man’s stomach.

‘What’s on your mind, Bucky?’

‘My name is James,’ he corrected on a whisper, praying the sound of his voice wouldn’t be swallowed up in the folds of Steve’s sleeping shirt. There came a push from the back of his mind, Winter’s strength joining his. ‘Or Winter, depending on if aliens are shooting at us or not.’

In the silence that followed his confession, Steve went stiff in his arms, but he couldn’t tell if it was out of surprise or anger. 

As James began to feel the threat of rejection looming over them, he found his fingers involuntarily digging into the fabric of Steve’s shirt. Keeping his best friend right there suddenly seemed more crucial to him than anything else he’d done before in his life, though his effort might lead to nothing more than idle hope. He’d never stand a chance of restraining Steve if the super soldier were to use his full strength. So, squeezing his eyes shut tight, James braced himself for the other to pull away. The moment seemed to stretch on interminably long as his stomach twisted itself into such tight knots that he began to feel sick.

He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until a big strong hand ran up and down his back and some of the tension leaked out of Steve’s frame in a long sigh. ‘You’d think I’d respond better after having had my suspicions for so long,’ he mumbled into James’ ear, voice full of self-reproach. ‘Guess I still don’t know myself as well as I perhaps should. What a pretty pair of repressed idiots we make, huh, holding onto our secrets so rigidly.’

‘You don’t have any secrets,’ James protested, clutching fistfuls of Steve’s shirt even as relief made his fingers tremble weakly. ‘You’re an open book that occasionally pretends to have nothing interesting written in it until somebody bothers to open you up and your heart spills onto the floor.’

Steve smothered a laugh. ‘You’ve read too many of Nat’s romance novels.’

‘Am I wrong, though?’

‘No,’ he acknowledged, sounding quite defeated. ‘No, you’re not. Thanks though, for telling me yours, well, part of yours.’

James allowed himself to relax a little, drawing back just far enough to get a proper look at his friend. Steve’s jaw was clenched tight like it always was when he tried to put on a brave face in times of distress. A myriad of emotions danced through the blue depths of Steve’s eyes: sadness, relief and no small amount of affection warred for prominence.

‘Honestly, I have a lot of questions still, Bu-James, but I’m not going to force you to answer them now if you don’t want to.’ He patted James awkwardly on the back. ‘Tony and I did some research on identity disorders when we first worked out what was happening, so I have a basic idea of what this means for you, and I just want you to know that I’m still your friend.’ He hugged James closer against his bulk, sharing warmth that was both mental and physical. ‘Whether you’re Bucky or James or Winter, I have always been your friend and I won’t stop now.’

A tear tracked a wet trail down James’ cheek. ‘See,’ his voice cracked traitorously. ‘You’re such a damn emotional punk, Stevie. You’re making me cry.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Steve said thickly, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. He continued to stroke James’ back until the silent stream of tears dried up.

When he felt like he wasn’t in danger of bursting into tears anymore, James sniffed loudly and asked the question that was burning on his mind. ‘When did you suspect?’

Steve leaned back in the embrace, thinking. ‘The first training exercise we ran together. I’d grown so used to you by then that seeing Winter in action was like a bucket of cold water to the face. It goes deeper than him being more distant though. He’s absolutely cold-blooded and calculating at times where you would crack a joke or challenge me to look at the situation from another perspective. He measures the effect of every action he undertakes before he even aims his rifle and, most importantly, he startles like a baby deer when I try to touch him.’ In the Inner World, Winter huffed angrily at the last item on Steve’s list, but didn’t deny it.

Amused at his alter’s grudging agreement, James hummed. ‘You’re on to something there. We’re indeed two separate personalities, two different people, sharing one body. Up until tonight most of our dissociative shifts were involuntary, and Winter tends to take control when we’re being threatened.’

‘And now?’ Steve asked him, withdrawing further to study his expression, but maintaining a point of contact by drawing soothing circles on the back of his neck. ‘Have you figured out what triggers it?’

‘In our case, I don’t think we have to think in terms of triggers,’ James reasoned. ‘There’s only two of us and we have established an open line of communication. The two shifts we’ve completed so far were voluntary.’ If you ignored the way he’d tackled Winter to the floor less than an hour ago, but Steve didn’t need to know that. ‘I think we’ve settled on a rough arrangement, namely that Winter will be the one primarily working with the team in the field and we’ll try to divide our off-time evenly between the two of us.’

Steve nodded in understanding. ‘Reasonable. Guess I’ll just have to look out who I’m trying to hug and drag on my morning runs now.’

Predictably, Winter jumped right onto the opportunity to go head to head with another enhanced soldier.  _ Tell him I’m ready to accept the challenge whenever he feels like it. _

‘Eh, Winter will want to run for sure, but he can get competitive. So don’t get in over your head.’

‘I’ll keep it in mind.’ Steve had the good sense to look kind of nervous at that. James didn’t doubt that Winter would be able to turn an innocent jog through the park into an obstacle course of life and death. ‘Might have Tony tail us in the suit the first few times.’

A knock came at the door. When you speak of the devil… 

The bedroom door creaked open and Tony cautiously poked his head in, peering at their entangled forms on the bed. ‘How are we doing in here? Anybody cry yet?’

‘I think we both did for a minute there,’ Steve admitted wryly. ‘But you’re welcome to have a go at some more emotional lifting, if you feel up to it.’

‘No, thank you.’ Tony stepped fully into the bedroom, trusty coffee mug in hand, and closed the door behind him. ‘I was responsible for the preliminaries and that’s all the soul bearing I can stand for a day.’

‘You’re not too sick of emotions for snuggles, I hope?’ Steve laughed and stretched out an arm to welcome his partner back, but Tony shook his head and circled around to his side of the bed.

‘Never, darling,’ he replied with a wink and put down his mug on the bedside table before dragging up the covers, prompting James and Steve to move over with a wave of his hand.

’Scoot over, my sleeping beauties,’ he instructed as he slid under the blankets and practically plastered himself against James, immediately burying his face into his back. Tony’s nose was a cold point even through the fabric of his shirt. Then, he let out a long sigh of contentment. ‘You super soldiers make such nice space heaters. Hot in every sense of the word.’

‘Charmer,’ James shot back, grinning, as Tony flopped an arm over his side to reach Steve. Whether on purpose or not, the billionaire’s excellent aim was proven by how his hand managed to land perfectly on the curve of his partner’s ass. James chortled as the man in question rolled his eyes in fond exasperation.

‘Tony,’ Steve whined, half-heartedly batting away his partner’s questing hand. ‘We should be getting up, not going back to sleep. People will be calling you about last minute changes for the gala.’

Huffing, Tony stubbornly repositioned his hand as close to Steve’s sweet behind as he could without running the risk of getting chased away again. ‘Pff. Jarvis is perfectly capable of handling those calls and it’s still pretty damn early, so relax, Capsicle.’ He lifted his head to peer at James’ face. ‘Besides, Snowflake here looks like he could use another nap. Spa day did nothing for the replica of the Chinese Wall he’s been constructing under his eyes.’ 

Subconsciously, James brought a hand to his face to verify the truth of that claim. The skin directly under his eyes felt tender and puffy despite the many hours he’d spend in bed. He’d probably slept more in the past twenty-four hours than he’d done in weeks, but the amount of rest he’d got hadn’t been enough to erase all the traces of exhaustion.

‘Aww, don’t get self-conscious on us, Snowflake.’ Tony patted his back comfortingly with his free hand. ‘You’re still way prettier than the Hollywood heartthrobs that will be walking the red carpet tonight. You’ve got that moody vibe going on that gets the kids these days wild.’

James got nervous just thinking about all those young eyes fixed on him, some lustful, others merely curious. He needed to remind himself of the positives before he started to work himself into a panic attack. ‘Fortunately, my appeal to the younger generations is inconsequential. Winter already asked Pepper to be our date to the gala.’ He couldn’t help but feel a bit disgruntled that the socially-inept ex-assassin had managed to cross that line first, even though it made things much easier on him. Next time, James vowed, he’d be the one doing the asking. Maybe he could pick a stop on their culinary tour of New York?

Tony let out a low whistle, impressed. ‘Damn. If I had known that the cold soviet assassin had inherited all the smooth moves, I would have tried communicating with him way before this. Would have spared me and Natasha a lot of matchmaking time.’

‘Congratulations, James,’ Steve’s reply was more muted in its enthusiasm, but the soft curve of his smile told James he was plenty happy for him.

‘Thanks. Now my fancy new suit won’t be gathering dust hanging in the closet, at least.’

‘It had better not,’ Tony said sourly. ‘Henri has charged me a small fortune for the hand embroidered stars alone.’

James blinked in surprise, turning over slightly to look at the billionaire. ‘You’ve seen the finished product?’

‘Hell yeah. Rosalind brought it up along with my private mail while you and Steve were having your moment. I put it in one of the guest bedrooms,’ Tony snuggled closer, forcing James to face Steve again. ‘You’re going to look splendid in it, Snowflake. As will Frosty when he decides to make an appearance.’

_ I’m going to throw him out of the penthouse window if he dares to call me Frosty again,  _ Winter growled under his breath. 

_ Loki already tried that and failed. _

_ I don’t care. _

As usual, no one else seemed to notice the quick conversation taking place between them and Tony continued talking, undisturbed. ‘I feel like we’re missing something,’ he mused, now sliding his hand under Steve’s shirt. ‘You know what? Next time, I’m inviting Pepper along. It’s been ages since we’ve had some good snuggle action between the two of us.’ Even if the reaction was completely irrational, James couldn’t quite stop himself from experiencing a stab of jealousy at the thought of Pepper getting all up close and personal with the finest examples of male anatomy and charm New York had on offer. 

Tony must have felt his body stiffen, because he backed right off. ‘Or we could just gift her with one of those Christmas vouchers, good for one long, intense snuggle session with an Avenger of her choosing, preferably of the slightly grumpy disposition.’

‘Would you like that, James?’ Steve inquired, a teasing note also creeping into his voice. 

‘Why wouldn’t he?’ Tony snickered. ‘A growing boy needs his endorphins.’

‘Just shut up and snuggle me, you bunch of jerks,’ James groused and he buried his head into the plush pillows, shutting out their delighted giggles. Maybe if he’d get on with that nap, they’d leave him alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter, please consider leaving a comment or kudos. <3


	9. Gala Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're closing in on the end! There might not be a chapter tomorrow (depending on some outside factors), but you will normally get chapter 10 and the epilogue by Friday evening.
> 
> A picture of Pepper's gala dress is based on Zuhair Murad's 2015 Fall couture line. A picture can be found on the website of Vogue: https://www.vogue.com/fashion-shows/fall-2015-couture/zuhair-murad/slideshow/collection#33

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/5b/6b/5P2w48yJ_o.jpg)

*********************

Despite the near freezing temperature in the underground garage, James could feel his palm start to sweat as he waited for Pepper to meet him. Dismayed, he transferred the bouquet of jasmine flowers to his metal hand and wiped the flesh one off on the leg of his trousers. How many years had it been since he’d felt this nervous over something as simple as a date? Easily more than eighty years.

Like Tony had said, his finished dress uniform was a thing of beauty. Prussian blue levers contrasted nicely with the deep charcoal fabric, which was decorated in strategic places by hand-embroidered red stars. Even his cufflinks were shaped like little stars and inlaid with slivers of garnet. To finish off the look, Tony had placed a single blue crown anemone into his breast pocket as a boutonnière while dropping hints about Pepper’s outfit left and right. James couldn’t wait to see her…

The small display above the elevator bay lit up, announcing that the main car had started to move down from the penthouse, and James heart started to beat like a jackhammer in response. It might be a false alarm, after all, the penthouse had fulfilled the function of dressing room for many Avengers besides Tony and Steve today. There was no certain way of telling if the elevator was carrying Pepper down or not, and James patently refused to ask Jarvis for confirmation in fear of the round of cajoling that might ensue if Tony caught wind of his nerves. That was the last thing he needed right now.

Taking a deep, calming breath, he watched as the floor number hit zero and then continued into the negatives before slowing to a stop on minus three, Tony’s underground garage. The doors slid open with a soft swoosh, but the person who left the car was too broad and jovial to be mistaken for Pepper.

Grinning broadly at James’ look of disappointment, Happy Hogan was the sort of stand-up man that Hydra would have broken its teeth on corrupting. He was loyal to a fault and could smell a rat from a mile away, which made him a valuable ally in Winter’s book. To James, however, he was a warm, welcoming presence that occasionally provided him with the craziest sugary confections that the twenty-first century had on offer.

‘Nerves getting to you?’ Happy asked as he fished a security pass from his suit pocket and pressed it against the garage computer. A high beep confirmed he’d gained access to the system.

Biting his bottom lip, James hummed noncommittally. ‘A little.’

‘Looks like a lot from here,’ Happy called his bluff with a wink as he scrolled through the car menu. ‘What do you fancy this evening? Tony’s requested that I drive you and Pepper to the gala and I know she doesn’t care one whit about what car she arrives in, but you,’ he pointed confidently at James, ‘have taste.’

Feeling some of his anxious energy settle, James wandered closer, peering over Happy’s shoulder at the options. ‘You’ve got anything vintage in there?’

‘Sure do!’ Happy swiped up until a small pop-up message declared that they’d reached the first half of the twentieth century. ‘Want to see if I can find one as old as you?’

James had a sensory memory of being jostled around in a matchbox of a car, gripping the seat in front of him so tightly that his knuckles turned white. ‘God, no. Those were death traps on wheels. We need to choose a car that’s just as classy as the lady who it’s going to transport.’

Lifting one teasing eyebrow, Happy cracked a grin. ‘I like where your head’s at, Sarge. One classic coming right up!’ Determinedly, he scrolled up the list and made his selection. ‘A 1950 Dodge Coronet, limousine edition, refurbished and modified by the boss himself.’ The elegant curves of the design vaguely reminded James of a Beetle, the Coronet could have been its dignified older brother.

‘How safe is it?’

‘Handles like a dream ever since Tony got his hands on the engine. It’s pretty private too, since he replaced the old windows with dark glass.’

No paparazzi sneaking a peek, then. He liked the thought of that. ‘I think you’ve found us a winner.’

‘Brilliant,’ Happy chimed, initializing the retrieval process with a confidence that betrayed a long familiarity with garage’s systems. ‘Let me call it up from storage…’ As he trailed off, the elevator doors swished open again and the clacking of high heels landing on concrete resounded around them. 

Suddenly, all of James’ body seemed to turn traitor, freezing in place as a heady mix of anticipation and trepidation surged through his veins.  _ Oh God, she’d arrived. She was here.  _ As his grip closed even tighter around the flower bouquet, he felt like he was going to die or sink through the floor. Either way, he was going to fuck something up.

_ Stop worrying,  _ Winter said gently, remarkably soothing for his doing.  _ She wouldn’t have agreed to be your date for the gala if she didn’t like you. Don’t waste all the effort I put in. _

James was still a little fuzzy on what exactly that ‘effort’ had entailed, but Winter’s calm logic did help to turn back the tide of his anxiety.  _ Alright, _ he breathed in a lungful of wintry air.  _ Let’s fucking do this. _

With great difficulty, he managed to dislodge his feet from where they’d attempted to fuse to the floor and turn around. The greeting he had prepared died on his tongue as he took in the vision of beauty that had appeared before him.

Pepper was…

Simply calling her beautiful would be trite; an overused adjective that failed spectacularly at describing the impact she had on him. The way she took the air straight from his lungs only to breathe it back into him was nothing short of divine. Too worldly to be mistaken for an angel, Pepper seemed to him like a goddess walking the earth, leaving stardust in her wake.

He couldn’t begin to tell what fabric her floor-length dress was made out of, but it was light and airy, rippling in an invisible breeze as she glided over to them. The colour was a deep midnight blue, with stars in different shades of silver and blue embroidered all over. It accentuated the paleness of her skin in places where the dress almost became see-through. The enticing flashes of impossibly long legs under the long skirt made his mouth simultaneously grow dry like the desert and flood with saliva. If she’d ask him to drop to his knees for her right now, he’d do it without question, worshipping her with every ounce of strength he had. 

Unfortunately for his libido, Pepper made no such requests from him as she glided to a halt in front of him, tilting her head to the side to take him in. He raised the bouquet in offering almost on autopilot, and her smile softened as her eyes lingered on the jasmine flowers.

‘Hello, James,’ she purred, relieving him of the flowers and bowing her head to smell them. Her eyelashes fluttered as she glanced up at him. ‘You’re looking every inch the dapper gentleman.’ Her open admiration enveloped him like a warm blanket, causing his cheeks to flush with pleasure and desire.

‘And you look breathtaking, gorgeous,  _ ravishing _ .’ The words escaped from his lips in an elated rush before he had the thought to censor them. The tips of his ears burned hot with a peculiar sense of shame, but it was lightened by the red tint that spread over Pepper’s cheeks.

‘Still a charmer after all these years,’ she murmured into her bouquet as she collected herself. ‘I’d be happy to have those words engraved on my headstone.’

‘Not for many years yet, hopefully,’ he prompted, swallowing heavily as he drank in how the soft waves of her hair framed her face perfectly. She hadn’t bothered to cover up her freckles with foundation and he took comfort in the earthliness of them.

Pepper’s gaze lifted to meet his, almost shyly. ‘With the right incentive, I could stand to live another hundred years.’

Enraptured by what he saw lurking behind her eyes, he couldn’t help but push his luck a little bit further. ‘Is that right?’

‘Why don’t you try to find out, James?’ she challenged, tongue curling around the syllables of his name like a caress. 

A loud cough cut through the tension that hung like a thick veil between them and they both startled, looking over to discover that the garage had successfully coughed up the Dodge Coronet and Happy was now awkwardly twiddling his thumbs hovering next to it. 

‘Excuse me for ruining the mood,’ he apologized, scratching the back of his neck. ‘But the gala will be kicking off soon and I have strict orders to deliver you two at the red carpet by seven.’

Flustered, Pepper cleared her throat, fidgeting with the bouquet with uncharacteristic nervousness. ‘Oh. I must have lost complete track of time. You can start up the engine, Happy, we’ll be with you in a minute.’

‘Okay.’ Happy cast one last long look in their direction before disappearing behind the car door, leaving him and Pepper to stew in their embarrassment. 

For a long minute they just looked at each other, memorizing every detail, then Pepper slid closer to grab his hand, giving it a good squeeze. The innocent gesture was quickly becoming a staple of their interactions, conveying mutual support, and if James was allowed to dream, mutual love.

'Ready to take the plunge?' she asked, a slight tremor in her voice.

He drew her hand up to brush a kiss against her knuckles. 'At your side, Ms Potts, I can weather any storm.'

She shook her head in disbelief, but her smile grew steadier. 'You're incorrigible.'

Not even a blind man could have remained ignorant to the fact that the Maria Stark Foundation was throwing its annual gala. The cascade of cheers and camera flashes going off shrouding the event’s red carpet could be heard from hundreds of metres away, like the incessant drone of a swarm of angry bees. Soon, he’d be exposed to their sting for all the world to see on their television screens. James tried not to shrink into the leather seat at the thought of it.

Even Pepper’s expression had tightened from stress when he glanced down to where she was leaning against his side. ‘You never quite get used to how big these events can get,’ she said when she noticed the tense set of his shoulders. Her hand hadn’t released his since they’d slid into the backseat of the limousine. ‘The first time I had to follow Tony down a red carpet, he was drunk and left me to answer all the questions while he went off schmoozing with a society darling. It was one hell of a baptism by fire, but it got me used to being in the center of attention quickly.’

‘Can I get away with just smiling and nodding whenever they ask me how I feel about becoming an Avenger?’ he asked as their limousine slid into the arrival line-up and the red carpet officially came into view. While the areas closest to the carpet were reserved for members of the press and the lucky New Yorkers who’d won tickets from the VIP raffle, both sides of the street were filled with Avengers fans, holding signs and plushies that they waved around in the air at every car that passed by. 

Suddenly, he was glad for the tinted windows that kept them from looking in. He’d rather keep on his strong face in their presence. Not because he didn’t want them to see him vulnerable, but because he felt like that was something people expected from their heroes. Avengers were meant to be pillars of strength, after all.

‘If you’d ask Tony, he’d say you can get away with anything,’ Pepper replied, distracting him from the crowd. ‘But you shouldn’t feel pressured to do more than smile if that’s what keeps you comfortable. Lord knows, I want to give some journalists the finger after they’ve asked me about my dress for the fiftieth time.’

James couldn’t help but laugh at the way her nose scrunched up in disgust. ‘Not to seem self-centered, but I’m quite sure there’ll be more questions about your choice of date than your dress tonight.’  _ And about as much speculation in the press tomorrow morning. _

‘Either don’t respond, or give them a ‘no comment.’ If they’re that desperate for news to fill up the front page, then can go through the extra effort of contacting the Avengers’ publicist and listening to our actual news-worthy projects for a change. Darcy’s been fuming about the lack of phone calls for the literacy program.’

James had grown very familiar with the young woman’s ongoing campaign to put the Avengers’ more charitable activities in the spotlight. Just last week she’d enlisted his help in creating a few cardboard signs that she could use to hijack the background of a news broadcast. He hadn’t known what half of the hashtags he was putting on paper meant, but listening to Darcy’s enthusiasm for the initiative had been enough to convince him that helping her probably couldn’t hurt. She’d even surprised him by holding up a new sign during the broadcast with  _ Winter Soldier is a 5-star Avenger! _ painted across it. Needless to say, he’d become a big fan.

He smiled at the memory of it. ‘Let’s make sure to behave tonight then, so we don’t give her too big of a headache and she can talk to the papers about whatever topic she wants.’

Craning her neck, Pepper pressed a kiss against the underside of his jaw. ‘Here’s to hoping.’

He was still busy basking in her attention when the car advanced further in line and the red carpet was suddenly right there, inevitable and terrifying. His heart abruptly skipped a few crucial beats. Instinctually, he tightened his hold on Pepper’s hand as she tried to sit up and smooth out her dress, wary of the invisible threat that lurked outside the safe confines of the car. Of course, that did not stop her and she removed her hand from his with a gentle tug. 

Once she’d freed herself, she turned around and lifted a hand to cradle his cheek. ‘They’re only people, James,’ she told him, her gaze firm and inescapable. ‘They might not be the best kind of people, most of them preying on the weaknesses and misery of others, but they’re dependent on you and your actions to obtain any level of power over you. If you step out there and give them nothing, they’ll just be people hiding behind their fancy cameras and mikes, impotent.’

It was like he was seeing her for the first time, the version of Pepper that spearheaded a multi-billion company and commanded the loyalty of thousands of employees with an iron fist and a heart of gold. With her, he felt safer than he’d done in a long while.

James swallowed hard, submitting himself to her protection and wisdom. ‘I understand.’

A finger traced the sharp line of his jaw. ‘Let’s go get them, then.’ Fluidly, she leaned past him to unlock the car door, signalling to the event’s team of valets that they were ready to emerge into the light. ‘If it gets too much at some point, I’ll be right next to you. As will the others.’

He swallowed past the lump in his throat and nodded to indicate that he’d heard her loud and clear, but couldn’t actually bring himself to move from his petrified state until the car door was opened by an impatient valet.

‘Your call time is fast approaching, Miss Potts,’ the man told them curtly, gaze flitting briefly to James and turning slightly derisive. ‘I urge you to make haste.’

A twitching muscle in Pepper’s jaw betrayed just how she felt about that rude interruption, but she kept her voice perfectly even: ‘Thank you for the warning. We won’t keep you waiting any longer.’

Taking that as his sign to move, James hurriedly checked his tie and suit for wrinkles. ‘Do I pass muster?’

Pepper’s expression softened. ‘Naturally, though I’m a tad biased in that regard.’

‘I shall take your word for it, nonetheless,’ James said, carefully drawing up the corners of his mouth in a smile he knew he’d be able to hold for a while without cramping up. It might not be the most genuine move, but he’d rather not have the tabloids analyzing his compromised mental state in the morning editions. He briefly checked his reflection in the car door window to see if it appeared convincing enough. ‘Okay, I think I’m good.’

Wordlessly, Pepper’s face underwent a similar transformation as he pushed open the door the rest of the way and stepped onto the red carpet. Camera flashes started going off even before she was fully out of the car, temporarily blinding James as he sought his bearings. He gritted his teeth and waited for the curtain of stars and black spots to disappear from his vision before linking Pepper’s arm with his. Voilà, the perfect image of a classic gentleman.

Fortunately, Pepper took the lead from there, guiding him the first few metres up the red carpet until they reached the first official photography marker and positioned themselves according to the wishes of the press photographers. The amount of directions that came flying at them was dizzying and James had to suppress the urge to cover his ears to shut out the aggressive drone of their orders. Instead, he let Pepper manipulate him into striking the appropriate pose while he tried his best not to let his mind drift to another place and time…

Where dark shadows delivered harsher and more ominous directives… 

Where his only solace could be found in the sting of frost creeping along his bones…

_ Shit. _

In a blink of an eye, Pepper seemed to have maneuvered them through two more photography stops without him noticing and James realized with a cold certainty that he had been dissociating during the interim. 

_ Winter? _ He ventured cautiously into the Inner World, searching for the solid presence of his alter. 

_ I’m here, _ came the terse reply.  _ Covering your ass like always. Keep moving. _

Forcing himself back into the present, James surreptitiously glanced around at who else was occupying the red carpet while he and Pepper continued on walking to the next marker. She seemed to be oblivious about him not being all there, but he couldn’t blame her with all the distractions constantly being thrown in their direction. Maybe this was her version of battlefield focus, evading nasty questions in the absence of grenades.

Trying to keep the discomfort from clouding his reason, he craned his neck and caught sight of a familiar couple up ahead: Steve and Tony happily paraded in front of the assembled press, arms slung companiably around each others waists, looking for all of the world like staring down a camera lense was their natural state of being. Knowing Tony’s history and relationship with the media, that probably wasn’t too far off the mark. As James zeroed in on them, the genius was wildly gesticulating with his free hand, thoroughly distracted by an interviewer’s question while Steve nodded in agreement at appropriate intervals.

Silently begging the other man to notice him, James could feel the smile on his face slowly slip with the ratcheting cadence of his breath. The individual voices of the reporters were starting to blur together into one constant avalanche of sound, drowning out everything else. He didn’t want to be here. He’d rather be strapped to the chair while an electrical current made all of his neurons fire wrongly. His hand clenched around Pepper’s bicep in warning, but he couldn’t tell if she reacted to him anymore.

_ Please, Steve. _ God, he felt like crying. His heart throbbed erratically as the panic tried to claw itself free from his chest.

Finally the super soldier’s head swung in his direction, brow furrowed in confusion, and James could have sunk through his knees in relief if Pepper hadn’t been holding him up and staunchly leading him further along. Going by the way Steve squared his shoulders and pulled on Tony’s arm in an obvious bid to move closer, James felt like his eyes must be projecting his distress like flood light beams. 

Disturbed, the genius also looked away from the interviewer, zeroing in on James almost immediately despite the fracas surrounding him. His eyes were like two dark pools of calm in the onslaught of light and noise, grounding.

_ Get me out of here, _ James mouthed, well-aware that Tony was capable of lipreading. He got a slight nod in return before the other man turned to Steve and whispered something in his ear. James couldn’t muster up the concentration to read what he was saying. His legs felt like they’d been disconnected from his body: loose, boneless sticks that refused to carry him in one unanimous direction. Lightheaded, he nearly sent himself sprawling to the carpet below him. When he looked down, the red clung to the soles of his shoes like fresh blood.

He let out a whimper.  _ ‘Pep?’ _

Giving up all pretense that they were a just another normal celebrity couple flaunting before the press, Pepper slung an arm around his back and drew him closer to her chest, so his breath washed over her neck in quick, uncontrolled puffs. Her muscles tensed as the drone of voices intensified, suffocating him further. He didn’t think he could run right now, no matter how much distance he wanted to put between himself and the roaring crowd.

‘Tony!’ Pepper’s voice was high and panicked as she called for help, instantly making James feel even more miserable for ruining her evening. Ruining her life, really. There was no sugar-coating it.

Miraculously, he succeeded in lifting his head the smallest amount to reassure her that he was going to be alright if he could just sit down somewhere quiet for a minute, when he spotted a curious scene playing out between his two best friends. Uncomprehending, he blinked sluggishly as Tony somehow managed to dip his much taller lover and claim his lips for a dramatic kiss. Steve, shining beacon of innocence and American morals, sank right into the kiss with a moan loud enough to make the gathered crowd fall into shocked silence. The respite of sound was short, however, as the camera flashes went wild and mikes drew closer to catch every second of the salacious display. It was just the kind of distraction they needed.

Pepper was hauling him up by his shoulders before he’d finished that thought, shouldering his weight in a manner that would have certainly caused some eyebrows to rise if all the onlookers hadn’t been so terribly distracted by the spectacle of Steve and Tony sucking face. Without delay, she urged him into a sprint, practically carrying him off the red carpet and through the VIP entrance that led to a private lobby.

Once the double doors slammed shut behind them, James’ ears were greeted with nothing but blessed quiet and the pounding of his pulse behind his eardrums. His lungs sucked in the air greedily, gradually clearing his vision of the dancing black spots and reducing the nauseous simmer at the bottom of his stomach. Meanwhile, Pepper guided him along steadily towards the grand staircase that dominated the lobby. He caught a glimpse of himself in a sliver of silver mirror worked into the balustrade, sweat beading on his forehead and temples. He looked like a ghost that had just received the fright of his life.

‘Here. Take a seat before your legs give out,’ Pepper instructed as she gently lowered him onto the bottom step of the staircase. Too weak to protest, he collapsed onto the marble and twisted to press his forehead against the cold surface of the stone. He lay there for a long moment, unmoving, as Pepper’s small hands started to stroke up and down his back in soothing circles.

‘It’s fine. It’s all going to be fine.’ She was fighting hard to keep her voice from trembling, but James could feel the tremor spread from her fingers into his back. Blindly, he made a grab for the offending appendages, clumsily stilling them between his own. 

‘Don’t cry,’ he mumbled, as he brushed a kiss against the tips of her fingers. ‘I know you worked hard on that cat eye. I’m not worth ruining that for you.’ 

She hiccuped a laugh as he drew her hands up to his hair, silently asking her to repeat yesterday’s massage. ‘Only you would say such a thing at a time like this, James Barnes, and you’re worth every grain of emotion I have in this body.’

He grinned tiredly, opening his eyes to slits to take in her drawn expression. ‘Thanks. I think you’re pretty awesome too.’

_ Sap. Focus on your breathing.  _ Winter huffed as he paced restlessly through their shared mindspace, only pausing to check for cracks in his control, so he would know when to take over fronting. He seemed to be satisfied by what he found, because he made no attempt to push James out of the pilot’s seat. He could have done so very easily with James’ mental presence more closely resembling stretched out taffee than a human being. 

As Pepper’s fingers started to card themselves through his hair, however, he felt himself getting reassembled and shaped back into his proper form. His breathing began to slow down as her slender fingers wove between longer strands and tenderly pulled at them, relieving some of the pressure building inside his skull. James shuddered at the counterpoint of pleasure and pain and pressed back into her palms with a moan. 

Pepper hummed a soothing tune and continued to trace delicate, nonsensical patterns into his scalp until the sound of the grand doors opening and rushed footsteps caused her to stop her ministrations.

With great effort, James opened his eyes to see what had disturbed her, only to be swamped by a warm body. ‘Oh my God, James. I’m so sorry,’ Tony rambled as he hugged him with all the force his smaller frame was capable of producing. ‘I knew this was a bad idea and I should have never pressured you into coming. This is all my fault. I’m handing in my genius card, I don’t deserve it. I’m the biggest idiot of them all.’

‘Tony,’ Steve’s voice was harried, blonde hair sticking up in all directions, as he tried to detach his partner. ‘Maybe you should give him some space.’

Worming an arm free, James closed it around the billionaire’s waist, surrounding himself with Tony’s warmth like it was a comfort blanket. ‘Leave him, Stevie. It’s kind of reassuring.’

‘Oh.’ The frown on Steve’s face lost its power as Pepper slotted herself against his other side, completely disregarding the fact that she was dragging a dress that must have cost a fortune over the floor. Her lips ghosted over his temple, chasing away the last remnants of distress. She kicked at Steve’s ankle, prompting him to join the cuddle huddle.

The super soldier awkwardly lowered himself to his knees and briefly enclosed all of them in a feathersoft bearhug. ‘This was way better in bed.’

‘I don’t know,’ Tony sniffled from his left, regaining some of his good humour. ‘The marble texture has got its charms.’

‘Well, it’s murder on my knees,’ Steve replied, ruffling James’ hair as he got back up. ‘And I do believe it’s not doing wonders for all of your backs either.’ He clapped his hands and extended them towards Tony. ‘Come on, up you go.’ 

Tony acquiesced to his demand with a grumble, but Pepper remained at his right side, cradling his head to keep it from resting on the hard stone. She ran hot like a furnace, he noticed, had to be a side-effect of the Extremis virus.

‘I’d understand if you don’t want to be among the crowds anymore. We could go back to the Tower for the night,’ she offered, absentmindedly brushing a thumb over his cheekbone. Her open concern for him never failed to do funny things to his insides, but no matter how tempting it was to just say fuck it and spend an evening with her indoors, he couldn’t accept her offer. This gala was an obstacle he needed to overcome. Perseverance was key if he ever wanted to become a fully-functioning member of the Avengers.

As if the universe was cheering him on, a bell rang in a high note from inside the ballroom, indicating that the commencement speech was over and the actual festivities were about to begin. Soon, couples would begin crowding the dancefloor and no one would be interested in one anxiety-ridden superhero. Bucky used to love dancing, James remembered, had a knack for it, really. Maybe he could give it a try. With a patient dancing partner like Pepper, it wouldn’t hurt to discover if he’d inherited that same talent for rhythmic movement. (Even if he ran the risk of being judged by the cream of New York society.)

Burying his misgivings under a layer of determination, he shook his head. ‘We both know I need to reacquaint myself with the noise and the people of New York. This event is exclusive enough that the more aggressive members of the press aren’t being let in. And if the elite somehow manages to trigger me with their oysters and expensive champagne, I might as well lock myself into the Tower for eternity, because I would have brought shame upon the entire borough of Brooklyn.’

‘Hear, hear,’ Steve agreed, sending James a tentative wink. 

James lifted one eyebrow, unimpressed. ‘Like you can talk, Stevie. You’re marrying into the one percent.’

Tony shot a glare in his direction as he finished brushing himself off. ‘Thanks for ruining my proposal, jerk. Let’s see if I ever invite you for cuddles after this.’

Steve’s head whipped around so fast that James swore he could hear his neck joints crack. ‘Wh-what?’ he stammered, gaping at his partner. James took the opportunity to push himself and Pepper up into a proper sitting position, watching shock and joy war for prominence on his best friend’s face.

Tony merely rolled his eyes and grabbed the flabbergasted super soldier by the arm. ‘Like you didn’t see that one coming, darling,’ he said, while steering Steve up the stairs. ‘I’ve been working on the rings since our last anniversary, but you won’t be getting them tonight since James decided to be a horrible tattletale.’ 

James shrugged apologetically. ‘Time to get more creative with your hiding spots, old man.’

‘He’s got a point,’ Pepper piped up, smirking. ‘You left them lying out in the open in the workshop at least once every week.’

Tony puffed up his chest as much as he could and threatened imperiously: ‘We’re going to have beef at the next board of directors meeting, Pep, and it’s not going to be pretty!’

Pepper blew him a raspberry in response before bursting into a fit of giggles as Tony stormed through the double doors leading to the ballroom with Steve hot on his heels, now fully recovered from his shock and beaming with the power of a thousand suns. Her laughter was infectious and James found himself smiling too, shaking off the last dredges of anxious energy. 

‘How about we show Tony how it’s done on the dancefloor?’ he suggested, snaking his flesh arm around her waist.

Delighted, Pepper glanced up at him from under her lashes. ‘My, I thought you’d never ask.’

The gala seemed to be heating up as James and Pepper snuck into the ballroom from the secluded lobby. A small orchestra had taken up shop right below the stage where the mayor of New York and the president of the Maria Stark Foundation had likely delivered their opening speeches. They were playing the first notes of a viennese waltz that reminded James of those costume dramas Natasha liked to watch when she thought nobody was in the room. 

‘Perfect,’ Pepper said, tugging on his arm so he would follow her to the edge of the dancefloor where they wouldn’t disturb any of the other dancing couples with their awkward moves. ‘We can start off slow and minimize the risk of my toes getting trampled.’

James grimaced. ‘Don’t get overly optimistic yet. This pair of feet hasn’t touched a dancefloor since 1943 and that was with some healthy, alcoholic encouragement.’

‘You didn’t dance after shipping out to Europe?’

‘There was little left to celebrate after Azzano,’ he told her honestly. The phantom sensation of shackles pinning him down to a lab table flitted through his mind. Winter bat at them like an angry cat. ‘Muddy ground is more likely to twist your ankle.’

Pepper’s smile thinned, remorseful. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.’ James hated the thought that the shadows in his mind were infecting hers. He wouldn’t let them.

‘And I should have thought of something less gloomy to answer with,’ he said with a shake of his head, unfurling their arms in one smooth motion, so they were standing toe-to-toe. ‘We’re both a little tired. It’s forgivable.’

Pepper’s eyes gleamed with sorrow as she met his gaze. ‘If you say so.’

‘I know so,’ he reaffirmed, taking both of her hands in his and swaying their arms to the melody of the waltz. ‘Anyway, you will need all the cheer you can muster to teach me how to dance. Which moves are hot with the kids these days? I can do the robot pretty convincingly.’

Chortling, Pepper tugged gently on his arms, prompting him to take a step closer. Standing on her high heels, the height difference between them was minimal and James had to stop himself from fixating on the enticing curve of her mouth. He wondered if their smiles would fit together perfectly, like a shared imprint of happiness. Before the temptation to find out could grow too large, he swiftly dragged his gaze up to meet hers. 

Her eyes shimmered with mirth. ‘First step is taking on the right posture,’ she explained, firmly planting his metal hand on the small of her back where fabric met skin. James bit his lip to keep himself from dragging his fingers over the exposed canvas of her back. ‘And then it’s just a matter of having the right dance partner to guide you through the rest of the steps. Luckily for you, I’m fully qualified.’ To illustrate her point, she stretched their other arms out and pushed lightly against his chest, causing him to step backwards in turn. 

‘See,’ Pepper said smugly as they repeated the pattern. ‘Easy peasy. Think of it as martial arts. We’re not exchanging blows, but we’re sharing each other’s personal bubble, moving our bodies in accordance to the wants of another…’ She trailed off, shooting him a coy look.

A blush had been steadily creeping up James’ cheeks during her explanation. Her words were making it increasingly difficult for him to ignore how there was barely any space separating their swivelling bodies. He was convinced that if he were to open his mouth now a stream of very embarrassing noises would spill out.

‘Mhm.’

Delight radiated from Pepper’s face. ‘You’re killing it so far.’

Startled by her remark, James glanced down at his feet which were indeed effortlessly following every step from a dance he couldn’t remember ever having learned. He’d even began to lead Pepper without noticing it.  _ Huh.  _ Maybe he could pull this off after all.

Almost as if to test his mettle, the orchestra let the last few chords of the waltz reverberate through the ballroom. There was a polite smatter of applause from the gathered public and the dancing couples while the orchestra members took a bow and switched out some of their instruments. When the conductor flicked his little baton, it wasn’t to the tune of another waltz, but to something more upbeat. James was shocked to discover that he was subconsciously tapping his foot along with the rhythm. 

‘Ohhh swing dancing,’ Pepper cooed, squeezing his flesh hand in excitement. ‘It’s been ages since I got to do one of those. I wonder if I can remem--’

Cutting her short, James twirled her around, giving into an instinct that had long been suppressed. He grinned at the startled noise that escaped her before she caught on to what he was trying to do and flared the long skirt of her gown for dramatic effect in the next turn. She beamed at him with exhilaration as he led her into a quick succession of kicks and taps, ankles flexing to and fro as they switched sides. Her skin, which already ran naturally hot, soon turned sweaty from exertion and he gripped her hand more tightly to keep them from drifting apart in the swirling vortex of the crowd. His body pulled hers like a magnet, keeping them perfectly in synch as the music flowed all around them.

From the corner of his eye, James caught the briefest flash of Steve and Tony twirling uncontrollably as Steve lifted the genius straight in the air in an attempt not to step on his toes. Natasha and Sam glided right past them, giggling as neither knew the proper steps to the dance. 

Laughing at their adorable predicament, James picked Pepper off the ground and spun her as the song started to reach a crescendo. She slung her arms around his neck when he lowered her again, dragging his head down in the process until their noses brushed. Cheeks flushed, she leaned into his chest, hands clamping around his shoulders to keep herself from sinking to the floor as she panted, breath fanning over his cheeks. Her closeness overwhelmed his senses and suddenly the desire to press his lips against hers became unbearable. 

He dove down to catch her mouth just as she surged up to do the same, shattering the last barrier of air between them as their teeth clumsily clacked together. James winced but didn’t withdraw any further than he needed to align their mouths in a more agreeable fashion. Her lips shaped themselves to his demand by instinct, coaxing him to let her closer with a flick tongue so hot it could have burned his soul. James sunk into her heat with a grateful sigh.

Pepper tasted like rose chapstick and a hint of the spice she seemed to favour so much. He desperately wished he could venture just a little farther for a deeper taste, but that would be pushing things too far for the public space they found themselves in. He could already hear the first few scandalized whispers going up around them. Reluctantly, he gentled the kiss, savouring the slow, deliberate shift of her lips over his as he withdrew.

Dazed, she buried her face against his neck, sucking in deep breaths to calm the erratic pulse that beat in both their chests. He wanted to kiss her again, twirl her around on the dancefloor until the world ceased to exist around them and they’d be the only people left that mattered. Instead, he snaked his arms around her waist and supported her weight as they slowly shuffled away from the dancefloor. 

By some miracle, they managed to reach the bar without collapsing into a pile of mutual boneless joy, and he lifted Pepper into the nearest empty bar stool. She snuck another kiss on him before he let go of her waist, lips hungrily seeking his. His moan was greedily swallowed up. They necked like bloody teenagers for what felt like an eternity, neither willing to give up the warmth of the other’s touch. Pepper was like a living flame writhing inside his hold.

A polite cough eventually broke through the thick haze of lust that had descended over James’ mind and he unwillingly detached himself from Pepper. She nipped at his bottom lip in retaliation before shimmying further up the bar stool with a languid smile.

‘Hello again, Tony,’ she greeted the interloper like she hadn’t just given one of her best friends a front row seat to her snogging the life out of a certified assassin. ‘Good to see your toes survived the onslaught.’

‘They have barely touched the ground so far,’ Tony replied, gaze flicking between them like he was gauging how much friendly teasing would be welcomed. ‘You seemed to be doing pretty well for yourself.’

James rolled his eyes. ‘I’m right here, Stark.’

‘And looking all adorably red-cheeked,’ Tony acknowledged with a shit-eating grin. ‘Seriously, grab yourself a drink, Snowflake, as a reward for that performance you gave all the supporters of the Maria Stark Foundation. Donations are going to be through the roof this year thanks to you two.’

‘Don’t be crude, Tony’, Pepper chided, but the happy twist of her mouth took all the venom out of the words and Tony’s glee didn’t diminish in the slightest.

‘I’m always a gentleman, Pep, so I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said, stuffing his hand in his pockets like a naughty school boy. ‘But I’m afraid I didn’t come over just for the excellent view.’ He indicated the bustling ballroom behind him with a toss of his head. ‘We’ve got rounds to make, hearts to win and wallets to make lighter. Charity waits on no one.’ He winked salaciously in James’ direction. ‘Not even romance.’

Out of spite, James swiped at him, pinching his nose between his metal hand and pulling it gently. ‘Keep your nose out of business, buddy, before I remove it from your lovely face and Steve will be left with a bad Voldemort impersonator for a husband.’

‘I didn’t ask him yet,’ Tony replied nasally, grabbing onto James’ wrist despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to make the super soldier budge. ‘And I refuse to do it with a nose that’s bright red from your abuse, Snowflake.’

‘If we have a deal, he’ll never need to know your shame.’

Tony’s eyes narrowed in suspicion but he extended a hand for him to shake. ‘Deal.’

‘Deal,’ James confirmed, releasing his nose with a little pinch. Tony rubbed the bridge of it vigorously as the soldier turned to address Pepper, who was watching them with an amused tilt to her kiss-swollen lips. ‘Don’t eat all the other millionaires raw, alright?’

‘Can’t promise anything,’ she said, leaning in to give him a quick peck. ‘But I’ll endeavour to keep the bloodshed to a minimum without you there.’ She slid off the bar stool in one smooth movement and linked her arm with Tony’s, who was indeed now sporting a red nose. ‘Save me a dance for later, handsome.’

‘I will,’ he saluted her with a wink as Tony began to cart her to the first group of potential donors for some schmoozing. Her shoulders were shaking from laughter as he guided her along, occasionally throwing heated looks at him over her shoulder.

A happy sigh escaped James as he leaned back against the bar, watching the two of them being swallowed up by the crowd. All things considered, he thought, the night had gone quite well despite its rocky start. If Tony had offered him a million dollars this morning and said that he’d experience the lowest low and the highest high of his emotional range in the span of one hour and come out on top, he’d have locked himself inside his apartment and never even put on his suit. That version of James and Winter would have missed not only the opportunity to be brave, but also reaping the sweet reward at the end of the road.

_ I might be amenable to pursue this relationship with Pepper further,  _ Winter rumbled from the Inner World,  _ if you’re willing to grant us some one on one alone time. My curiosity had been… roused. _

‘I’m sure it has, Winter,’ James muttered under his breath. His grin was so wide that his facial muscles ached.  _ Among other things. _

A loud tap on the bar caught his attention and he glanced over his shoulder to find a bartender staring him down with eyes as big as saucers. ‘Would you like to order a drink, Sir?’

James tilted his head to the side, too elated to care if the man thought he had a screw loose for talking to himself. ‘Why not? You got something strong under that bar of yours? I think I deserve it after making it through all that.’

The bartender sent him a long, weary look before deciding one alcoholic beverage couldn’t hurt. ‘One scotch coming right up.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments or kudos would be appreciated. <3  
> See you soon!


	10. Three is the Charm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last full chapter of this fic. *sobs into handkerchief* Five long months of writing and stressing and doubting if I would be able to tackle this rare pair have come to an end.  
> I hope you enjoyed the journey of the final product just as much as I did, dear readers.  
> Tomorrow, you'll get a sweet epilogue and then this fic will be officially completed.  
> See you there!

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/e8/b3/oYW35d3Y_o.jpg)

*********************

Although the serum made it impossible for James to get drunk, he could still appreciate the quality of the scotch, the smokiness of the flavour and the smooth way it went down. Obviously, Pepper and Tony had gone all out in securing the best food and drink for the gala, possibly in a ploy to loosen up the pursestrings of the attendees. James took his time downing the liquor, studying his reflection in the amber liquid as it sloshed around the crystal glass. He looked tired around the eyes, but his expression was more lively than he’d seen it in months.

_ You’re happy, _ Winter noted, for once without a hint of disapproval.  _ Enjoy it while it lasts. Happiness is fleeting. _

_ I know, _ James replied, thinking back to the frigid rush of Alpine air as he was ripped from the train.  _ But this time, we have the means to protect ourselves and those we love. We won’t let Hydra or anybody else take them away from us. _

_ Naturally,  _ Winter affirmed. Behind his cool attitude lurked a deep desire for violence towards anyone who’d even entertain the idea of hurting the family they’d built. How far he’d come from the indifferent man who’d trekked across Europe trying to outrun those who wanted to help him. James was starting to feel rather proud and just a little choked up.

In an attempt to mask his emotional response from Winter, he threw back what remained of the scotch and focussed on the trail the liquid burned down his throat. The sensation was equal amounts of pain and pleasure and he shivered in an odd sort of delight.

_ I’m turning into a bloody masochist, _ James lamented as he shut his eyes tightly and attempted to breathe through the burn.  _ Fuck, I already am one. _

‘Mister! Mister!’ An unexpected tug on the leg of his dress slacks, kept him from wandering too far down the path of that particular revelation and James looked down in surprise to find a little boy clutching the grey fabric in his tiny fist. He couldn’t be older than four, James guessed, and very determined going by his unfaltering grip. His cheeks were stained red from exertion. He must have been running for a while.

‘You’re an Avenger right, mister?’ the boy panted as James quickly set down the empty crystal tumbler and crouched down to his eye level.

‘Sure am, buddy,’ he confirmed. ‘What’s the matter? Did you lose your parents in the crowd?’ It wouldn’t be the first time that a lost child ran to an Avenger for help, but it tended to happen to the more socially accepted members of the team.

The boy shook his head in vehement denial. ‘No, no. Mom’s right there.’ He pointed out a woman in the crowd who James instantly recognized as Helen Cho, the supervisor of the Avengers’ medical team. He glanced down at the boy. This had to be Amadeus, then.

‘Alright, I see her,’ James acknowledged with a nod, gently prying the boy’s hand loose from his trousers. ‘Can you tell me what’s up, Amadeus?’

If the boy was taken aback by a superhero knowing his name, he didn’t show it. His little face scrunched up in thought as he tried to put into words what brought him to ask an assassin for help. 

‘Me, Susan, and Billie were out in the corridors because we’d heard there was a garden out back and we wanted to play hide and seek under the trees, but we got lost on the way out,’ he rushed to explain, nearly stumbling over the words in his excitement. ‘We were going to climb out of a window to get there when we heard two men arguing outside. They were really big and buff and they cursed a lot.’ Amadeus’ frown deepened to show exactly what he thought of uncouth adults. Winter perked up in interest at the prospect of trouble, the absolute maniac.

James gestured for him to continue with baited breath. ‘And what were they talking about?’

‘The Avengers and guns and places they could blow up.’ A cold fist closed around James’ heart as he processed the neat summary the boy had given him. ‘They talked about Mr. Stark, wondered where he’d be keeping his suit for the night. I think they might want to steal it.’

Blowing the place up didn’t seem conducive to successful theft, but he didn’t want to distress the boy with his own sordid suspicions. ‘Thank you for coming to warn me, Amadeus,’ he said instead, placing a comforting hand on his small shoulder. ‘Where are your friends now? Have they returned to the ballroom as well?’

‘No,’ Amadeus confessed, eyes wide with worry. ‘They wanted to continue listening for more details, so they sent me back. Is that bad?’

Fuck, that probably meant there were two kids in danger right this minute. He needed to move now and quickly. ‘Can you take me to where you last saw them?’

‘Sure!’ Amadeus seemed to cheer up at having something to do apart from twiddling his thumbs. ‘I’ll bring you to the corridor where we first heard them.’ He grabbed a hold of one of James’ metal fingers as he rose from his crouch, clenching the digit tightly between his own. ‘Come on. We’d better hurry!’

_ Don’t need to tell us twice, kid, _ Winter huffed, fully emerging from the shadows in co-consciousness.  _ Go see what’s up. We can complete the shift once we’ve assessed the threat properly. _

_ Roger _ , James replied silently, doing his best to not trip over the small boy in his haste to leave the crowded ballroom and the boisterous guests behind. If they managed to do this efficiently, the donors would never need to know about the misfortune that had almost befallen them.

Amadeus didn’t hesitate for one second as he led him through the darkened corridors that were normally reserved for staff members. There was a distinct lack of security on this side of the building, James noted with dismay. No wonder unsavoury elements had made their way into the event. He only hoped he’d be able to handle them without back-up. Maybe he should have warned Steve before leaving the ballroom, but he hadn’t seen the man since the swing dancing and his sudden disappearance would have caused more unrest. Suddenly, James longed for his communication earpiece. That would have made this much easier, but the bloody thing was at home, lying uselessly on his bedside table.

Finally, his young guide slowed down, footsteps growing more cautious as they crept around a bend and came upon another empty hallway.

‘Huh,’ the boy said, startled. ‘I could swear they were…’

A low, distant boom shattered the quiet, causing Amadeus to jump back in fright. He shrieked and nearly climbed up James’ leg as a second explosion followed. James had barely started cursing - because there were bombs,  _ fucking bombs _ , planted around the gala - when Winter mentally pushed him aside and took over fronting.

In a literal blink of an eye, Winter’s consciousness sharpened into focus like a knife cutting through thin air.  _ Multiple explosives present. Two detonations confirmed. At least two active hostiles, likely more. Target unknown. _ The checklist flowed effortlessly from his mind as he bent over to tuck the terrified four-year-old under his flesh arm. The child kicked once in reflex as his feet left the ground, but settled soon after.

‘Stay quiet. We’re going to try to find your friends and get you all out of here.’ It was not the ideal way to soothe a child, certainly not the words James would have chosen, but they had the desired effect. Amadeus Cho nodded in compliance and buried his face into Winter’s shoulder. The assassin took that as permission to start running down the corridor in search of an emergency exit. Ideally, he would drop the child off at one and then continue to look for the others on his own, but plans were subject to change…

As they rounded a corner, they were greeted with the sound of raised voices and safeties being removed from firearms. Winter threw himself back behind the wall with a curse as a hail of bullets chipped off pieces of plaster. 

‘There’s one of them bastards!’ One of the shooters shouted as Winter turned to make a break for it. He wasn’t willing to risk a direct confrontation with the child under his protection. Survival was paramount in this case. ‘Restrain him before he can get his hands on a weapon!’

_ You’d better not let them, _ James warned, his mental voice nearly drowned out by a stampede of heavy footfalls.  _ The others are going to need our support to put a stop to this shitshow. _

_ Don’t distract me, _ Winter barked back, irritated, as he ducked through a half-open door, hoping to shake their pursuers off. Being this outnumbered spelled little good for their future, he needed to rejoin the rest of the team in the ballroom as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, the loud bang of the door opening behind them told him that the attackers had no plans of letting him regroup in peace. 

Amadeus whimpered as he clutched him closer, ensuring that his bulk was covering the shivering bundle of human. ’Mister Bucky?’ The boy asked in a small voice, barely audible over the rush of air around them. ‘What’s going to happen now?’

A flash of light at the end of the hallway, followed directly by a deafening bang, cut off any answer that Winter could have offered in return. He slid to a stop, metres from where the blast had taken out part of the wall. The first sounds of distress started to spill through the opening, but no further attackers climbed through. Shooting a glance over his shoulder at the two men in hot pursuit, Winter launched himself through the wall and landed on the other side with a dull thud, kicking up a cloud of dust. Using it to cover his retreat, he darted to the center of the cross corridor he’d stumbled upon and examined his options. 

If his sense of direction was to be trusted, the ballroom lay to their east. However, he had to consider the heightened risk of more hostiles roaming around in the direct vicinity of that central space, because the targets of this sting operation were clearly the Avengers. Divided between the desire to check on his teammates and keep Amadeus safe, Winter’s resolve wavered for the first time in his existence. 

Capitalizing on his hesitation, their pursuers clambered up the pile of debris and into the wider corridor. The first man that emerged from the dust was aiming a glock in a manner that betrayed his inexperience with any kind of serious firearm. He’d be relatively easy to disarm if only he wasn’t already shooting like he wanted to hit every single object in the room, animate or not. Coming to a split decision, Winter detached Amadeus’ fingers from his blazer and lowered the boy to the slippery marble floor on his belly, giving him a good push. He slid down the hallway with a shriek, but immediately started crawling away once he came to a stop, finding cover behind a large potted plant for. 

_ Smart boy, _ Winter thought with an unexpected hint of pride.  _ He’ll go far in life. _

Swinging around, he charged the gunman, using his metal arm to deflect the bullets that came flying at him. Once he got into striking distance, he wound his hand around the man’s wrist, redirecting the barrel to point at the floor with firm pressure before breaking the bone cleanly in two. A single trail of pain blossomed across his thigh as a stray bullet bit into his skin. Unfazed, Winter made quick work of disarming the man, bringing up his knee to kneed him in the sternum in one fluid movement. The man with down as all the breath left his lungs.

Winter scarcely had the time to savour his victory before the second pursuer appeared, shouldering a heavy duty submachine gun. His hold on the weapon screamed that he was an old hand at emptying its cartridge. Winter couldn’t hope to get away from this one unscathed without his full armor and equipment. Hell, he didn’t know if the serum would be capable of keeping him mobile after four gunshot wounds. Steve hadn’t lasted more than three on the Helicarrier.

The gunman seemed to realize he had the upper hand, because he took the time to scoff at his companion’s sorry state. ‘Idiot,’ he muttered before aiming the gun squarely at Winter’s unprotected chest. ‘On your knees, Soldier.’

Thinking of the terrified little boy that was cowering behind a potted plant, Winter obediently began to sink to his knees, hoping he’d at least be able to spare Amadeus from further trauma. (That was, of course, if he wasn’t shot straight in the head, but the repercussions of that did not bear thinking about.)

‘Not so high and mighty now, huh?’ the man laughed gruffly, not lowering his weapon for a second. Something vile and deeply revolting shifted in the depths of his eyes. ‘I wonder what else I can make you do like this.’

‘That’s for me to find out.’ 

With nary a golden glimmer announcing its arrival, a fiery lasso wound itself around the barrel of the gun, melting it shut, before lashing out at the gunman, forcing him back into the debris. 

‘And for you to never know,’ Pepper declared menacingly, looking like she’d just stepped freshly out of hell as she extinguished her blazing weapon. There was plaster and cement dust stuck in her hair and dark smudges on her face, but her eyes burned with an intensity that neither Winter nor James had ever seen before. If beauty could ever be considered demonic, Pepper was presenting them with a fine example.

_ Atta, girl, _ the latter alter whispered in quiet admiration.

Pepper did not disappoint. From her twisting hands, which had been so soothing to him little more than an hour ago, cascaded torrents of fire that engulfed the retreating gunman in a blaze of heat. A hoarse scream tore from the man’s throat as he toppled to the ground in a desperate bid to extinguish the flames. In a matter of seconds his panicked flailing lessened until his burning form fell completely still.

‘He’s dead,’ Winter remarked rather unhelpfully, stunned by the sheer power his - Girlfriend? Partner? Lover? - had displayed. He couldn’t rip his gaze away from her form, entranced by the way in which Extremis made her glow from within. ‘You killed him.’ Had she ever been more attractive?

The external stream of fire died away, but he could still see the flames writhing restlessly underneath her skin. ‘He wasn’t the first,’ she told him, voice flat, repeating her confession from the night before. ‘He won’t be the last.’ She shot him a smile that was hard and brittle, crumbling around the edges where she was in reality closer to tears than she’d like to admit. Almost inevitably, Winter felt himself fall a little deeper in love with this glorious warrior goddess.

_ Huh,  _ James commented, coming to a similar realization about the depth of his feelings towards her.  _ I get to tell her first, right? _

_ Sure,  _ Winter allowed, desperately trying to hide his blush. _ I’m no good with the emotional parts.  _

‘You’re one hell of a woman, Pepper Potts,’ he admitted out loud, now tasting ash and burned flesh on the air. ‘You got any other tricks up your sleeve I should know about?’

‘A few.’ Like the sun peeking from behind the clouds, good humour returned to her expression, curling her lips upwards ever so slightly. ‘If you’re a good boy and cover my back, Winter, I might give you a show.’

‘Aye, ma’am. I’ll follow your lead.’ Winter felt his cheeks flush even deeper. The middle of a fight really wasn’t the appropriate time to pop a boner.

As he began to rise from his kneeled position, however, there came the sound of harried footsteps and another pack of lackeys flooded into the crowded corridor. Pepper spun around to face them, dispatching her flame daggers with astounding precision. Last night’s training session had really paid off.

Not wanting to be left out, Winter turned to look for a weapon and was nearly knocked off his feet by the man he’d kneed before. Apparently, he had recovered enough to chance a second attempt at overpowering the assassin. They rolled over the floor, grappling, until Winter finally managed to land a solid hit with his metal fist against the man’s skull. He retreated with a growl, clutching at the spot where Winter had no doubt fractured the bone.

Rolling to his feet, Winter pressed the advantage, kicking out in a wide arc that sent the man flying back onto the smoldering corpse of his former companion. He twitched weakly for a second after impact, satisfying the sick desire for retribution in Winter’s stomach.

‘Watch out!’ A young voice called out and Winter swung around just in time to see one of the new attackers break loose from his fight with Pepper and dash towards him. In the rush of battle, he’d almost forgotten about Amadeus Cho, but he had to admit he was insanely glad that the boy was there to warn him as he caught onto the glint of a combat knife in his opponent’s hand. 

The man had a riot mask on, making it more difficult for Winter to read what his next move would be, so he had to focus on the building tension in muscles and the slight shift of the body when the man wound up for another swing or stab. Despite managing to successfully fend off every blow with the arm, Winter felt himself slowly being driven back. Over his attacker’s shoulder he saw a small figure nimbly weave between the legs of the last couple of fighting men and dart out of sight. Amadeus had taken the initiative to get himself to safety.

His momentary distraction cost him dearly: foregoing the knife, the man jabbed his elbow into Winter’s stomach, sending him stumbling back into the wall. He recovered swiftly but his attacker didn’t seem to be too concerned by that. His free hand went to his belt, pressing a combination of buttons on a small electronic device that was strapped to it. A red light blinked twice and then he was coming for Winter again.

Simultaneously, another explosive went off, much closer, perhaps even in the next room over. Winter ignored it, too busy with deflecting another swipe of the wickedly sharp knife, which made him long for his own kukri. He was about to spread the plates of his arm to catch the knife in the next swing, when an ominous cracking noise came from somewhere above his head. In the space of a second, the wall behind Winter began to collapse in an avalanche of stone and metal. Anticipating this, his attacker darted out of his reach, probably hiding a self-satisfied smirk behind that mask of his. Instinctively, Winter tried to follow his example and roll out of the path of the falling rubble, but it came down too fast. A large section of the concrete wall hit his metal arm, pinning it to the ground. A burst of electricity rocketed through the arm, activating every single pain receptor on its way through Winter’s brain. 

_ He screamed. _

James was sucked from the Inner World in a vortex of pain. Blurred images and memories crowding his mind’s eye as he tried to differentiate up from down. Distantly, he could make out a low, whimpering sound as if from a wounded animal. He flailed in the dark, trying to find the source, wishing against all hope that it wasn’t his alter he was hearing. 

‘Winter?’ He called out mentally, receiving only silence in return. 

He was alone…

_ He needed to take charge. _

Reaching for the tendrils of control that were floating freely in the whirlwind, James grasped them and painstakingly reconnected himself to his body. The pain rapidly flooded his senses and he had to clamp his jaw shut to smother another scream, but eventually he pushed through, breaching the surface of his consciousness.

The first thing he heard when he came to, apart from the furious pounding of his own heartbeat, was a high-pitched shriek that spoke of so much unadulterated rage that he had to keep himself from shrivelling up in fright where he lay. Cautiously, he peeked out of one eye just in time to watch Pepper slam her glowing fist into the riot mask with such force that she sent the man flying into the opposite wall. A deathly snap announced that the fight was over as his limp body tumbled to the floor.

James watched her let out a sob and sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth, struggling to tell her he was fine despite his nervous system practically screaming at him that he wasn’t. Weakly, he tried to tug himself free, but his metal limb simply refused to move, betraying that there had to be some damage to the internal wiring. His plates had been open when the debris fell… Fuck.

Scrambling to find purchase on the marble floor, James pushed against the concrete slab with all the strength he could manage, but the slight shift caused another electric pulse. He abandoned his attempt with a groan.

‘Oh God, James!’ 

In a flash, Pepper was leaning over him, flickers of flame danced desperately in her eyes as she fixed her gaze upon the collapsed wall like she’d be able to lift it off him with the power of her gaze alone. When not even the tiniest piece of rock caved under the pressure, she gingerly ran a hand over the visible part of his arm, down from his shoulder until she could worm her petite fingers in the crag between the stone and metal. 

‘Your arm has been impaled by a piece of rebar,’ she murmured, giving the object and experimental tug that made James flinch back from the sharp flare of pain that ensued. 

‘I won’t be able to lift the concrete without damaging your arm. I’m sorry.’ She sounded heartbroken as she said it and he was anguished to discover that tears were spilling freely from her eyes. Unconsciously, he reached out with his flesh hand to wipe them away. She leaned into his touch, breath hitching, and let her lips brush over the chafed skin in a whisper of a kiss. The way her lips burned with the intensity of her inner fire gave him an idea.

‘Listen,’ he began, slowly stroking a thumb across her cheek. ‘I’m going to be in a world of hurt anyway when the medics arrive to get this thing out of me. I’d rather the pain be as short as possible, so if you can lift that concrete off my arm, I’d appreciate it.’

‘Are you certain?’ The glance Pepper cast in the direction of the collapsed section of wall was full of trepidation. It was obvious she wasn’t going to go ahead without him seriously pushing her. He wished he could be annoyed with her for it.

‘I’m not asking you to make me suffer for your own sick pleasure, Pep,’ he argued in a soft voice, hoping that would pull her over the line. ‘I’m just asking you to cut my misery short. If that’s not an act of mercy, then I don’t know what qualifies anymore.’

For a long moment, she bit her bottom lip, then she nodded. ‘Let’s do it quickly.’ She sized her inanimate adversary up with a frown, cocking her head to the side as she looked for the best spots to place her hands. Some parts of the stone crumbled as she tested them. 

‘My arms will just have to go under,’ she decided, rolling up her singed designer sleeves. ‘If we’re lucky I can get it to lift clean off your arm, otherwise you’re going to have to do some wriggling.’

If the pain would be anywhere near the level it had been a few minutes before, James was pretty sure he was going to writhe himself free anyway. He braced himself for the worst, clenching his flesh hand into a fist. ‘Do it.’

Sliding her arms underneath the slab, Pepper grunted a little with effort as she started to lift. ‘One… Two…’ 

The whine of repulsors cut off the rest of her countdown. ‘Fucking hell, Pepper, wait!’ Tony’s voice had turned robotic thanks to the armour’s modulator, but the slightly hysterical note of his cry had come through loud and clear. Pepper froze in place, wide-eyed as the suit landed next to them with a clang, making the ground shake underfoot. The armor released a small, wriggling figure from its arms and Amadeus Cho shook out his windswept hair.

‘Hello, Miss Potts!’ the boy chimed happily like he hadn’t snuck away from a firefight to fetch his mother’s superhero employer. ‘Mr. Stark’s thought up a brilliant plan!’

‘Don’t get ahead of yourself, kiddo,’ Tony said as he flipped up his visor, gaze grave where it rested on James’ sprawled form. ‘I might be a genius when it comes to robotics, but this piece of tech is something else, always acting up in unexpected ways.’

‘Tony,’ Pepper said with her clenched teeth as she struggled to maintain her hold on the concrete. ‘Keep the engineering lessons for another time and tell me what to do.’

Tony blinked hard for a second, stunned. ‘Wow. It’s been ages since you had to ask me that, isn’t it? Really brings back memories…’ 

She glared at him. ‘Don’t even start.’

‘Wasn’t about to.’ Tony shook his head once as he stepped forward and grabbed a hold of her shoulders, so she was forced to let the piece of wall sink back down. He leaned in closer to whisper conspiratorially into her ear, but James’ enhanced hearing picked up the words anyway. ‘Listen closely, Pep, because you’re not going to like what I have to say.’

‘I rarely do on these kinds of occasions,’ Pepper admitted wryly, letting him guide her away from the rubble. ‘And yet you always defy my hopes of you shutting up.’

‘You wouldn’t have stuck around for this long if I didn’t challenge your expectations once in a while,’ Tony objected, still in a hushed whisper, probably aware that James was able to hear them as he continued to lead her further away from them. Amadeus trailed behind them, gaze flicking restlessly between them and James.

Huffing in frustration, James lifted his head to catch the rest of Tony’s words. 

‘It’s a nightmare out there, Pep. We’ve managed to apprehend the last members of the militia and nobody inside the ballroom has gotten seriously hurt in the process, but the press is already spinning their little tales outside the doors. We need to do some damage control and quickly. You need to get out there and tell them what’s up,’ Tony’s voice brooked no argument. ‘And I know you’re dying to stay with James until he gets free, but we’re running out of time here.’

Every sinew in James body that wasn’t pinned down by a slab of concrete wanted to revolt at the thought of her being forced to leave him behind because of some jackals vying for the first scoop. (And maybe he just wanted to be selfish for once and keep her calming presence at his side, because this was supposed to be their first date, goddamnit, no matter how disastrous it had wound up being.)

Echoing his emotions, Pepper made a noise of protest. Tiny flames flared around her hands as she gestured helplessly at James. ‘I can’t--’ Her face crumpled as she looked over at him, searching for some reassurance that she was making the right decision. Anguish spilled from her eyes like fresh tears.

That was the expression of a woman being torn apart between her duty and her heart, James realized in an unpleasant flash of clarity. The entire organization of the gala had been her responsibility in the first place, it wouldn’t do for the most eminent member of the board to disappear in the wake of a disaster like tonight’s. She would have to leave him whether he wanted her to stay or not.

Defeated by his own logic, James dropped his head back on the cold floor wistfully.

‘Yes, you can,’ Tony urged her again, snuffing out some of the Extremis sparks as he enclosed her hands with the gauntlets. ‘I promise you I’ll do my best to get him back to you in one piece as soon as humanly possible. Remember, he’s my friend too.’

Pepper pressed her lips together stubbornly, but James could see her resolve to stay waver. She’d only need a little push to take that last step.

‘Sweetheart,’ he called, catching both their attention. ‘You should do as he says. Tony knows my arm inside-out, he’ll have it fixed in a minute.’ Going by the guilty twitch of Tony’s mouth, that was overly optimistic of him but James couldn’t quite bring himself to give a flying fuck. Pepper needed his reassurance in that moment, so he’d give it to her. ‘You can go be successful CEO Virginia Potts the Maria Stark Foundation needs you to be, and I’ll still be here when you get tired of the cameras and the questions.’

‘You absolute, fucking masochist,’ Pepper cursed him softly in one breath, darting over to drop to her knees at his side. She leaned over him so he had no other option but to face her. A heady mix of anger and an emotion he’d like to think was love made flames dance in the green depths of her eyes, drawing the air from his lungs with their beauty.

‘I prefer ‘jerk’,’ he croaked, trying not to let himself drown in her closeness even if it was an excellent distraction from the growing discomfort in his arm. ‘Masochist just makes me think of chains.’

‘Oh, I’ll chain you up right good once we get home,’ Pepper threatened, brow furrowing. ‘And then we’ll never have to go to another gala again.’ 

He gaped at her, caught off guard by the lovely visual she was presenting him with, and she ducked her head to steal a kiss from his speechless lips. ‘But duty calls so that will have to wait,’ she told him with a tremulous smile. ‘When it gets to be too much, remember that I’m just around the corner, okay?’

He leaned up to kiss her in return, wordlessly conveying his agreement.  _ Understood, ma’am. _

‘Ahem,’ Tony cleared his throat, noisily walking up in the armour. ‘Far be it for me to get in the way of romance, but we really need to get a move on. I’d like to have James up and running before EMT’s start swarming the place.’

The prospect of being locked into a sterile hospital room wasn’t exactly appealing, so James contented himself with sneaking another peck before Pepper drew herself up and dusted off her dress. Parts of it had been singed or ripped during the fight, but she looked no less radiant in the glittering swathe of night sky. 

‘You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve seen all evening,’ he told her, honestly. ‘You look ready to knock them dead.’

She flushed a little in embarrassment as she squared her shoulders. ‘Stop it, you silver-tongued charmer. Or I’ll never leave.’

‘Yes, please shut up,’ Tony interceded with a frown as he gently pushed Amadeus Cho over to her. ‘Take the kid outside with you. Helen should be waiting for him in the lobby.’

Taking the boy’s smaller hand in hers, Pepper shot him one last glance filled with longing before finally stepping away. ‘Stay strong, my James.’

‘Keep your head up, doll.’

The two of them had barely disappeared out of sight when Tony kneeled beside him to examine the damage done to the arm. 

‘Sorry for the rush,’ the genius apologized sheepishly. ‘Normally I’d prefer to solve this little dilemma in the lab where I’ve got all my tools and my sweet antiseptic, but this is the venue we’ll have to work with.’ The outer shell of the Iron Man gauntlet partially retracted, revealing that every single fingertip was crowned with a miniscule arc reactor. They couldn’t be producing any significant amount of energy to the armour, but the light beams they cast into the air were a beautiful, iridescent blue. 

‘Lasers?’ James asked, surprised that he still had the capacity to marvel at the small technological wonder. ‘You’re going to cut through the concrete to sever the metal?’

‘Not exactly,’ Tony hedged, refusing to meet his eyes. ‘For efficiency’s sake, I was actually thinking of cutting through  _ you _ .’ 

That did make more sense, but James certainly wished he’d set it less brusquely. His stomach turned as his mind was flooded with visions of his bloody stump tracking a red trail across the fresh Alpine snow. He gagged a little.

‘Not the fleshy parts, of course!’ Tony hastened to add. ‘But if I can laser through the arm’s plating and the wiring inside, you will be in much less pain than if I attempt to pull the metal straight out. I can cut above where your primary pain receptors are located to ease the way. See it as an early upgrade opportunity, because the arm’s likely too badly damaged to not have to be replaced at a later date.’

James swallowed heavily, carefully considering the amount of pain he was willing to subject himself to with Winter out of the picture. Frankly, his alter’s tormented silence was terrifying and he had no desire to find out what a similar experience would do to him. Winter had always been the one to bite through the worst of the pain, the wiping procedure and the intermittent torture under Hydra, and James honestly didn’t know if he’d be up to par.

He managed to fight down the nausea enough to ask another question: ‘You’ve got my new one at the Tower?’

Tony’s eyes glittered in understanding. ‘It’s been engineered within an inch of its life and is shiny as hell. If your new arm is not ready now, I’m not sure it will ever truly be.’

‘Then do it,’ James decided, already bracing himself for what was to come. ‘Guess Pepper won’t have to wait much longer for you to design a commercial line of bionic limbs. You’re going to get all the data you want very soon,’ he joked in a horribly misplaced attempt to lighten the mood, startling a snort from Tony.

‘You’re hilarious,’ Tony deadpanned, positioning one fingertip at the seam of two major plates right under James’ shoulder. ‘Let’s get this over with before you decide you want a candlelit dinner to go with your dose of dismemberment.’

Without further warning he activated the laser and James barely suppressed a flinch as a sharp, cold spike shot through his arm. It was not yet the pain he’d expected, but James suspected that this was only the start. 

Tony frowned in concentration as he adjusted the strength and depth of the cut until he hit the marble. ‘Got it,’ he said under his breath and he planted his other gauntlet on James’ chest. ‘I’ll try to make it quick, but I’d appreciate it if you could hold yourself as still as possible from here on out.’

James merely responded with a grunt as a second spike shot through his arm, slightly more unpleasant than the one before. The muscles in his shoulder were already cramping up in wait of the higher levels of pain that were sure to follow. He wondered if the sensation would be similar to the electric current of the memory wipe or if the pain would be something else entirely. Apart from the occasional slip-up, Tony had kept his usual maintenance sessions relatively discomfort free and James was rapidly starting to worry if that had softened him up too much. He was not as tough as Winter, who got himself knocked around for fun. Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure if losing the arm here was preferable to the drawn out process of getting the piece of metal rebar extracted inside a hospital or the workshop.

‘Okay, just remember I’m not a certified surgeon like Strange, but at least my hands are steady. Here goes--’ Tony said, sounding almost breathless, shifting the laser a tiny bit inward, so it was now cutting through the first few inches of casing. A cold, creeping feeling spread from the incision, reminding James of the way tendrils of ice used to slowly slither over the window of the cryo chamber as they put him under. He nearly shuddered despite promising he’d stay still.

Reflexively, he sought out the memory of Pepper’s warm body moving in perfect harmony with his. As Tony’s laser began to breach the casing with surgical precision, he forced himself to focus on how beautiful her eyes had remained even while she was in distress, like a dark sea of roiling waves. He would have happily drowned in them.

A hot lance of pain ripped that illusion of peace apart and James clenched his teeth as his muscles seized under the assaut. For a second it felt like somebody was dragging a hot iron over the seam where his arm and shoulder met, but when that passed, the sensation in his arm curiously seemed to lessen. It almost felt like his arm wasn’t caught under heavy rubble anymore, but under a soft woolly cloud. 

‘Those were the wires that provide your brain with feedback on pressure,’ Tony clarified helpfully, continuing to move the laser forward. ‘Next up, temperature.’

If anything, this one was easier. There was only the briefest tingle of heat before the engineer successfully severed the wires. 

Relieved, James dared to sneak a glance at Tony’s progress. A black, smoldering line that extended about halfway down the arm’s breadth betrayed how far the laser had cut into the metal. 

That actually hadn’t been that bad, James noted with pleasant surprise, Tony had held true to his promise of avoiding the main pain receptors. At this rate, he might just cut through the arm in one go and James would be able to manage the pain levels. However, the engineer appeared to hesitate.

‘Why are you stopping? You’re nearly through,’ James inquired worriedly as the laser was retracted back into the Iron Man gauntlet.

Cocking his head to the side in thought, Tony bit the inside of his cheek. ‘Looks are deceiving. Right here,’ he gestured vaguely at the point where he’d stopped cutting, ‘is where the central motoric systems of the arm are located. These are the hard-encased wires that mimic our skeletal structure and bone marrow. They carry all kinds of fluids and sensory information to and from the natural part of the host’s body. Cutting right through those is going to be messy and highly painful, more so than anything else I’ve done so far.’ He seemed as reluctant to cut his friend open as James himself felt.

He drew in a long breath through his nose and slowly let it out again. It didn’t help to tame the wild beat of his heart, but it gave him enough of a sense of calm to give Tony the go ahead.

‘Do your worst, Tones,’ he said, proud of how even his voice came out. ‘The train has already left the station and it’s too late to turn back now, so you’d better put your back into it.’

The grin Tony shot him in response was too brittle around the edges to be convincing, projecting his misgivings, but James was heartened to see him lighten up a bit. He knew the billionaire often struggled with accepting that he couldn’t always complete every task set before him to perfection. 

‘Thanks for your vote of confidence, Snowflake,’ he said with a little huff of a laugh. ‘I’ll try to remember your sweet, innocent words when you’re screaming my head off.’

‘I thought you’d grown used to that during our BARF-sessions.’

Tony’s expression sobered. ‘You never get used to something like that and, frankly, I’d want somebody to put me in my grave before I ever get the chance to turn into that kind of heartless monster.’ It was clear that he was thinking past the putrid influence of Obadiah Stane to the shadowy web that Hydra had spun in his life. 

‘You have taken good care of us, Tony, in spite of our rocky start. Apart from Steve, there’s no one I trust more to do the right thing.’ The Iron Man gauntlet kept him from squeezing the other man’s hand in support, but James hoped he’d never meant anything more. It seemed like the entire past year of recovery had built up to this trust fall.

‘Don’t you dare make me cry, James,’ the genius replied, blinking his eyes furiously to dispel the moisture gathering in them. ‘I’m going to need all of my sight to pull this one trick off.’

James managed a small smile. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’ 

Nodding decisively, Tony reactivated the laser and positioned it at the place he’d left off. ‘Ready, steady, go!’

He hadn’t been kidding when he said that the pain would be a lot stronger this time. James’ teeth abruptly clacked together as his entire shoulder flared up like an angry, open wound. His veins transported scorching tendrils of flame down the rest of his body, paralyzing his chest and lungs. He was distantly aware of his back bowing off the floor as he tried to cope with the sensation of all his soft tissues burning at once. 

In the Inner World, Winter surged back to life from his catatonic state. Half-asleep, he started to dutifully pull tendrils of pain away from James’ senses and absorb them into himself. He moaned as the pain fully registered in their shared consciousness.

_ Together, _ he choked out, mentally grasping the younger alter’s hand.

_ Together, _ James agreed, eternally grateful that he wasn’t alone in this as the agonizing procedure dragged on.

At the first hint of his black spots starting to dance across his field of vision, James scrunched his eyes shut, desperate to not pass out on the cold marble floor. A fuzziness was spreading through his brain, however, making it difficult to his tentative hold on consciousness. He had no way of telling if Tony was even close to finishing up with the main part of the arm. In fact, he could barely hear the hum of the laser anymore above the static drone in his ears.

_ Shit. He was passing out after all.  _ A hot spasm of panic went through him and a smothered wail escaped from his clenched jaw against his will. As the strength he was able to push into his tensed up muscles waned, his thoughts devolved to flashes of  _ Fuck. Tony. End. Soon.  _

For a long, dreadful moment, he became suspended in a fugue state between awareness and unconsciousness, with Winter pushing back against the tide as his vision lit up in a show of aggressive colours that threatened to drag him under. Then, a sharp slap to his cheek brought him back in a jolt of pain.

James’ eyes flew open as let out a startled grunt and Tony’s pale face drifted back into focus above him. ‘It’s done, Snowflake,’ he announced, sounding absolutely wrecked from stress. ‘I cut through the rest in one go. You’re officially a one-armed wonder again.’

‘Awe-some,’ he managed to slur, still dazed. ‘Do-don’t feel li-like one though.’

‘Nobody ever does,’ Tony remarked, carefully maneuvering the armour so he could drag him away from the concrete without further upsetting his inflamed shoulder. ‘We’ll have to give the metal a few extra minutes to fully settle into its fused condition, but then we should be ready to leave for the Tower. I have to say, this has been the most pathetic excuse for getting out of a date that I’ve ever seen. You can thank me later for making the evening at least somewhat memorable instead of just plain sad.’ He retrieved James’ pocket square from his ruined suit and dabbed at his sweaty brow. ‘You can rest for now, Snowflake. I’ll do the work.’

‘If you say so,’ James mumbled, letting his eyes fall closed as he passively listened to the gradual slowing of his heart rate. Maybe he could rest for just a minute.

A minute must have turned into a couple of hours, because the first thing James registered as he slowly returned to consciousness was the rhythmic beeping of a heart rate monitor. That and the sharp scent of antiseptic told him he’d wound up in exactly the place he’d wanted to avoid, the Tower’s hospital ward. The pillow his pounding head was resting on was simply too plush to have come from a regular hospital.

Groaning, he attempted to roll onto his side, only to be stopped by a warm, soothing hand that pushed him back into the mattress. ‘Shhhh, James. You can’t lie on your side until we’re certain the new sutures will hold.’

‘Pep?’ he whispered hopefully, battling the fatigue that made his eyelids heavy and unwieldy.

‘I’m here,’ she replied and instantly the mattress dipped as she slipped beside him under the covers. Her svelte form molded itself to his frame, carefully curling around the stump of his shoulder. The heat she emitted helped ease the ache that was building there somewhat. 

He didn’t quite have the energy to open his eyes and properly greet Pepper, but he smiled with drug-induced dopiness nonetheless. ‘Hello there, doll. They get the rest of the arm off yet?’

Pepper brushed a stray lock of hair out of his face. ‘Helen Cho was more than willing to put you first on the operation table after you ensured her son’s safety. I’ll warn you, the boy’s got a case of hero worship brewing; he wanted to help Tony install the connective components for your new arm, but luckily Helen vetoed that right away.’

James scrunched up his face in disgust. ‘Yeah, my bloody stump is not the kind of sight I’d want to traumatize a four year-old with, thanks. It’s bad enough he had to see it damaged that badly.’

‘It wasn’t pretty, I’ll give you that,’ Pepper sighed, drawing circles on his chest with the palm of her hand. ‘How am I ever going to make people believe that our first date ended with you losing an arm?’

‘Was it really our first date?’ he replied lightly, finally managing to crack open his eyes to take her delightfully rumpled form in. ‘Because I recall a couple of nighttime meetings that might qualify as well. This kind of felt like our third date, wouldn’t you agree?’ He smiled crookedly. ‘In which case, it had to be the most exciting one.’

Pepper sniffed loudly. ‘It didn’t live up to the hype. I wanted sexy snuggles, not casual dismemberment.’

‘We can work on those snuggles later,’ James suggested, wagging his eyebrows with as much tired enthusiasm as he could muster. ‘I promise they’ll be real good to make it up to you.’

‘You’d better conserve some of your energy first,’ Pepper said as her lips brushed the baby stubble on his jaw. She was right, of course. James could feel his energy levels plunging down the longer he battled to keep his eyes open. For a moment, he entertained the idea of passing off fronting to Winter, but his alter appeared to be as utterly exhausted as he was. 

‘Good idea,’ he yawned, burying his face against the top of her head, inhaling a lungful of sweet jasmine and spice. ‘A few hours of beauty sleep to replenish the reserves won’t hurt.’

Pepper’s laugh resounded clear like a bell, free from worry. ‘Sweet dreams, my James and Winter. You’ll see when the sun comes up, I’ll still be here to take your incredibly brave, one-armed ass on the date of your life.’

‘Sounds wonderful,’ he mumbled sleepily.

_ As long as there’s no spice in our food,  _ Winter added weakly.  _ My Russian stomach isn’t built for that kind of hellfire.  _

Chortling, James embraced his alter as the current of sleep began to drag them under again.  _ The only fire we need is hers. _

All night, their dreams were haunted by nothing but the sweet words Pepper whispered into their ear.

_ They were home. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When writing this chapter, I feared it would fall short of my usual wordcount. Turns out it's actually the longest chapter of the fic. Funny how that goes...


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of this fic, my sweet readers! I'd like to give another huge thanks to my artist Huntress79 and my wonderful beta ANT_chan! I couldn't have done it without the two of you being patient and cheering me on.

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/59/16/G5zK5Uo9_o.jpg)

*********************

When Pepper returned to the Tower apartment she shared with James and Winter, she kicked off her heels with perhaps more force than was absolutely necessary, putting a dent into the wood of their hallway closet. To say she was furious would be putting it lightly. This was the third week in a row that a board meeting had run egregiously overtime and ruined her plans for the night. A fire roared to life in her gut at the thought of having to miss out on the few hours she could spend with either of her partners. Was one cozy night in with them too much to ask for?

_ She fucking thought not. _

She literally exhaled steam as she ripped the rubber band from her high ponytail and shook her hair loose. Her skin itched where her make-up was reacting to her rising body temperature, so she quickly retrieved a wet wipe from her purse to take it off. The last thing she wanted was to release noxious fumes into their home. As she scrubbed the layers off her face, her mind wandered back to those early days when she had no idea how Extremis was going to flip her life upside down.

Admittedly, Pepper had been a bit of an insomniac way before Extremis merged with her nervous system, but the virus had certainly helped her overactive, workaholic brain along by rewiring it to peak efficiency. Next to the liquid fire now pumping through her veins, she got treated to a whole host of benefits that even super soldiers like Steve could have only dreamt of. Extremely fast cell regeneration, superhuman strength and the stamina to ride a fellow enhanced into the mattress until he was begging for mercy… But she was digressing.

At first, Tony and herself had gone looking for a cure, a quick solution that would put the old Pepper Potts to rights again without all the fancy biological upgrades. She’d mainly spent her days inside the Tower, hiding from curious eyes and letting Tony and Bruce run dozens of tests on her without clear results. Their good cheer soon started to waver.

Then, when the government bloodhounds had come sniffing around their doorstep, greedy for intel on the Mandarin incident, Tony had assured them with his signature grin that he’d fixed her right up. Only she had been able to spot the cracks in his veneer of confidence where the lies were as clear as day. Sure, the danger of spontaneous combustion had passed once Extremis had decided to get along with her insides, but the technopathic virus had still been running rampant at that point in time. Pepper had been a danger to national security and Tony had refused to give her up.

In the weeks that followed, Extremis stabilised further by itself. Her health had never been better -- she discovered she couldn’t even get a cold or a papercut anymore and her energy levels skyrocketed, leading to a phenomenal spike in productivity for Stark Industries and the Avengers project. The surplus of energy had also gradually robbed her of the need for sleep, however, and soon Tony began to joke that she was taking on his bad habits. 

With Bruce’s help he’d set up a programme of meditation techniques that would help her achieve the effect of mental refreshment that she couldn’t get from sleeping. These exercises became handy tools to fill up the empty hours of the night while the world around her slept like a baby. After a while, she started to add on combat practice just to familiarize herself with Extremis’ more violent side-effects and discovered that she had impeccable aim with fireballs but no talent for archery. This new routine helped her find an equilibrium she hadn’t realized she’d been searching for her whole life.

Pepper had quite thought she’d figured life out.

Until James Buchanan Barnes had turned in from the cold.

The man in question was sound asleep on their living room couch, drooling into a pillow, and looking for all of the world like the  _ Men’s Health _ version of Sleeping Beauty. His new vibranium arm gleamed in the dim light of their designer lamp, the gold edges of the plates shifted in his sleep. He’d probably tried to stay up to welcome her back home.

Smiling fondly, Pepper recalled how he’d always been on her mind even before they’d worked up the courage to actually talk to each other. He’d been the biggest, most frustrating enigma of her life, and Pepper generally didn’t handle mysteries like that very well. She tended to bury her teeth into them and shake them around until all the secrets came spilling out. The only thing that had been keeping her from storming over and doing the same to Bucky was the certainty that Steve wouldn’t appreciate her returning his best friend with bite marks - unless the second super soldier was really into that kink, of course, then she’d do it gladly. Let’s face it, from day one, James had kind of done it for her, embarrassingly so. (Especially after Tony had declared her crush to be the cutest thing since kitten videos on Youtube.)

The memory of all that wasted time they could have spent together, simply enjoying each other in a safe space, made Pepper flush with want. They’d been such blind idiots to not immediately recognize the golden opportunity that lay before them. Now, almost a year into their relationship, they’d naturally made good on a lot of that lost time, but it never felt enough. James and Winter awakened something in her, a greedy side of her personality that would never be sated. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to see to her boys’ needs after all.

Shaking her head to clear away the invasive, lustful thoughts, Pepper perched down on the small amount of free space left on the couch and cautiously ran a hand up her partner’s side. When she woke him up like this, it was difficult to predict which personality would emerge to answer her call. She did enjoy watching him wake up regardless, especially the cute way in which he scrunched up his nose as he tried to put off returning to consciousness. Sometimes he even mumbled nonsensical things under his breath like he was passing on snippets of a mental conversation. When that happened, she always listened intently to the strange, fragmented flow of conversation between the alters. From what she understood, her boys were keeping each other on their toes.

In a show of trust that Pepper never ceased to find incredible, her partner took his time waking up, giving her hand the time to wander up his arm, tickle the side of his neck, and weave itself into his hair. A purr rumbled from inside his chest as his steel grey eyes flicked open.

‘Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?’ Winter greeted her, voice husky from sleep. The slightest hint of a Russian accent coloured his vowels; a characteristic that had started to crop up a few weeks after the disastrous gala. (Remembering the event and how close she’d come to losing him still chilled her to the bone.) Pepper couldn’t deny she thought the accent was damn sexy.

‘Why thank you, Sergeant!’ She tilted her head coyly to the side as he worked himself up on his elbows. ‘I must confess that you also make a much lovelier sight than the sour faces I’ve been looking at all evening.’

He leaned in to peck her lips. ‘Tough meeting?’

‘You’ve got no idea,’ Pepper sighed, gratefully leaning into the arm he curled around her side for support. Unfortunately Extremis did not spare her of mental exhaustion. ‘If only the board of directors knew how close I come to burning down the conference table during our meetings, perhaps then they’d be more inclined to listen to my expenses report for the next financial quarter.’

‘A little intimidation never hurt anybody. I just think they’re a bunch of blind mole rats to not be enchanted by your presence, though that means I don’t get you all to myself very often.’ Winter eyed her with catlike laziness, but his movements were very deliberate as he drew her over to straddle his hips. A surprised moan escaped her at the feel of him pressing up against her intimately, enticing her to get even closer.

Against all her good intent, Pepper started to feel heady with renewed desire. ‘Really, Winter? I thought we were planning on having a romantic dinner at a restaurant.’

‘Plans are made to be changed and I could always stand to lose a few more hours of sleep over you,’ Winter said confidently as his hips bucked up in a clear invitation. 

She gave his hair a little warning tug, delighting in how his eyes turned hooded from the simple gesture. ‘Well, who am I to discredit your attempt at improvisation? Show me the ropes, Soldier.’

Eyes darkened by hunger, his smile turned wolfish. ‘Gladly, ma’am.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming along on this journey with me, dear reader. It's been a wild ride!
> 
> This is not the end of writing for me, of course. I'm already working on a Stuckony sequel to my Joystick one-shot and some other longform ideas. If that catches your interest, I kindly invite you to give my other pieces a try.
> 
> Hope to see you soon! 
> 
> X
> 
> Judith

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this chapter, please consider leaving a comment or kudos. <3
> 
> See you tomorrow!


End file.
